Duck Duck Goose!
by MysticSong1978
Summary: COMPLETE. In yet another potions mishap with Neville, Severus and Hermione find themselves in each other's body. But Hermione's involved with an unexpected person, and . . . horror and hilarity ensues!
1. The First Accident

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**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSong1978 and Slave4Severus

_from here on out, we shall be known as MysticSlave_

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concept(s).

All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's.

_Spelling and such is being kept as close as possible to UK English. _

* * *

_Author's Note:_

This story came from the desire to write the most hilarious story we could, while making use of as many ships as possible! We went to dinner one night and starting plotting . . . several weeks later, we had the basis for the story ready to go and started writing.

The pairings, due to Neville's potion mayhem, are going to get quite complex. You can count on Hermione, Severus, Minerva, Seamus, Ron, Harry and Draco all making entertaining appearances; and potentially, Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode and Parkinson! There will be slash and non-slash pairings.

**_Important:_** This story is for mature readers. Again, there are slash and non-slash pairings. Everyone who participates in intimate activity **is of age!**

**Reviews:** We _adore_ our readers and your reviews really make our day. We're busy and we know you're busy, but we'd be ever so happy to hear your thoughts on this story. Reviews will be replied to through the review reply option that FanFiction has enabled. We cannot promise to reply to everyone who just writes 'Great story, please update' or something to that effect, but if you leave in depth reviews and/or have questions, we will definitely try to answer you. If you don't get an answer fast and did leave a long review and/or questions, please check Mystic's profile -- Mystic is the one replying to you and is juggling numerous real life activities. Her profile will give you an idea of how busy she is at any given time. :)

_Love, MysticSlave_

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**Chapter One:**

It was a typical Potions class. Gryffindors and Slytherins had been paired together yet again. Dumbledore always hoped that someone would get friendly with another house, but it had yet to happen. The only thing it seemed to incite was further house rivalry. Snape, ever favoring the Slytherins, did little to improve the caustic situation.

The Potions Master swooped around the classroom, praising Draco, the one Slytherin who had made it into his NEWTS classes, and criticizing the Gryffindors to no end. Today they were working on a variety of potions based on their skill level.

Hermione was working with Harry on Polyjuice Potion. Giving their experience with it in second year, they were breezing along nicely; with Hermione doing most of the actual potion and Harry simply prepping ingredients. Not to say that he hadn't improved; he had gotten into NEWT level potions on his own merits, but Hermione knew what she was doing and could do it quickly. Unfortunately it wasn't a potion that could be brewed in one day and they had to remember to shield it at the end of each lesson to prevent someone from altering it.

Draco was working on the Draught of Living Death by himself. It was a potion that Snape knew he would make well and since he did need his stores of it replenished, he admitted to himself it would be best to let the young man work alone.

Neville Longbottom, through some luck and sheer determination, was also in the class. Snape had working on the Wit-Sharpening potion and told him to be ready to test it on himself at the end of the lesson. It couldn't hurt the boy to take it, and it was nearly impossible to ruin it.

Of course, Snape didn't take into consideration that even by seventh year, despite making it into the highest potions class, Neville was still truly afraid of his professor, and the more he swooped around him, inspecting his work, the more nervous he became and the more likely he was to make a mistake.

One moment his potion was brewing nicely; the next moment, Snape swooped behind him on his way to inspect Hermione's work, and slightly bumped Neville. This frightened the young man so much that he dropped his entire bottle of ingredient into the brew. Unfortunately it was bubotuber pus, not armadillo bile. While he had read the list correctly, he had grabbed the wrong vial when Draco jostled him in the storeroom. It reacted violently with the heretofore nicely simmering potion and simultaneously melted the cauldron and exploded across the room . . . into Hermione's Polyjuice potion and Draco's Draught of Living Death, completely coating his friend, and, much to his horror, his professor.

Harry and Draco had both missed being splattered by luck of having gone to the storeroom for additional ingredients. They returned to find a horrified Neville and an unconscious Hermione and professor.

Draco sighed and shook his head. Longbottom would never learn. He wasn't actually bad at potions, but he'd have to overcome his ridiculous fear of people if he expected to get far in the real world. Knowing this didn't stop him from taking a jab at the boy though. "Nice going, Longbottom! Now I'll have to start over again and this was a potion that Professor Snape actually needed. Bet he won't be too pleased to know you ruined a fine batch of the Draught of Living Death!"

Neville looked ready to cry at this point. Harry was no less pleased at having to re-start the Polyjuice potion, but he gave Draco a dirty look. "Leave him be, Malfoy. He was fine until your Head of House knocked into him!"

Draco shrugged and waved his wand over the still forms on the floor. Harry was instantly on the alert. "You better not hurt her!"

"Relax, you poof! It's just a cleansing charm. Get the Headmaster unless you want to levitate both of them to the infirmary."

Harry watched him suspiciously until they were both quite clean from the mess and then went to the classroom fireplace to floo-call Professor Dumbledore. Seconds later the wizard stepped through the fire into the classroom to inspect the results of Neville's most recent explosion.

He sighed and sent Neville back to his common room to relax. He instructed Harry and Draco to clean up the laboratory manually, just in case anything they had been brewing reacted negatively to magic, and then gracefully levitated both student and professor, and drew them down the hallway to the infirmary.

Night fell, finding both student and professor still in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen for the moment. Snape groggily sat up, mentally cursing Longbottom once again as he realized he had been in here all day long. _'Blast that boy!'_ His head ached, no doubt from when he had slumped to the floor, and he thought longingly of his private rooms where he had several vials of headache draught ready for consumption. He started to get out of bed when a small ding sounded and Madam Pomfrey was at his side. _'Bloody alert charms!'_

He was taken aback, however, when the witch leaned down and patted his hand gently. "There, there dear, it will be alright. There doesn't seem to be any bad side effects from Mr. Longbottom's mistake, but Professor Dumbledore would like you to stay the evening just to be safe, love," she twittered.

_'Love? What the bloody hell was she prattling on about? How dare she speak to him like he was a child?'_ He snatched his hand away from the witch and lay back down, quite grumpily. Madam Pomfrey, assuming her patient was merely upset at being away from classes all day, smiled and gently closed the privacy drapes before checking on her other patient.

_'Great. The Medi-Witch treated me as if I was a student and I still have a head-ache. I think she even made it worse!'_ Snape lifted a hand to his head to massage the sore spot. _'What the? That isn't my hair!' _Snape thought in alarm. He pulled a strand forward to examine it, to find himself looking at bushy, curly brown hair. _'Uhmmm…'_ was all he could muster. He took to examining the rest of his body. Small delicate hands, legs that were much too short . . . he looked down the front of his hospital gown . . . and screamed, "Bloody hell!"

Madam Pomfrey ducked her head back inside. "What's wrong, love?"

Snape was too astonished by his self-examination to be overly concerned with this sudden term of endearment the witch kept bestowing on him. He pointed to his chest. "These are not supposed to be here!" he exclaimed. _'What the hell was going on,'_ Snape wondered. That wasn't his voice either.

Madam Pomfrey frowned. _'Oh dear,'_ she thought, _'Mayhap there were bad side effects to this potion.'_ She'd have to talk to the Headmaster again. "Love," she said to the girl, "you've had breasts since third year."

In the other bed, Hermione was just coming around when she could have sworn she heard her own voice arguing with Madam Pomfrey. "Madam Pomfrey?" she croaked out.

The Medi-Witch turned and opened up the other set of drapes, deciding it would be easier than moving from bed to bed. "Yes, Severus?" she asked, a bit startled at his politeness.

Snape's face went slack. "Severus?"

"It's your name, dear," the Medi-Witch said. "You do remember who you are, don't you? You didn't have a concussion. . . "

"Of course I remember who I am," snarled Severus, from Hermione's bed. It didn't sound quite the same in Hermione's voice, but Madam Pomfrey still sat down, rather suddenly on the end of what she had believed was Severus's bed. Student and professor looked at each other in horror as they realized what must have happened.

A few hours later, the three sat in the Headmaster's office, trying to explain this unexpected situation. "We were all brewing different potions, sir, based on skill level," Hermione told him, trying to get used to her professor's much longer body. "Harry and I were brewing Polyjuice while Neville was working on the Wit-Sharpening Potion, but Draco and Professor Snape made him nervous and he ruined his potion."

Snape glared at her, but with Hermione's face, it looked more pouting and made Albus's eyes shine even brighter. "Well you did," said Hermione to her professor, Snape's voice sounding a bit petulant and whiny. Albus grinned. Poppy Pomfrey sighed. Hermione turned back to the Headmaster. "I don't know what ingredients he switched, but when it exploded it landed in both the Polyjuice potion and Draco's Draught of Living Death," Hermione explained.

Albus steepled his fingers. "Well," he began, "I believe it is best that we keep this between the four of us. Hermione, you will teach Potions, and you, Severus, will attend classes as Hermione. The three just stared at him. "I am sorry, my dear boy," Albus said to Severus, "but I must insist. Hermione, you will take an apprentice – yourself and you and Severus will work together to uncover what exactly occurred with the potions and see if you can develop an antidote. There's always the chance that it will reverse itself due to the nature of Polyjuice, but we cannot rely solely on that hope. Now, why don't you head down to Severus's lab and get to know each other. Severus," Albus said, looking pointedly at him, "make sure Miss Granger knows how to get around the school as you do; she will need to be convincing but it will also serve as protection if she needs to speak to you suddenly should something go wrong. We can all be thankful she is the Head Girl and you won't have to suffer any roommates!"

"Oh, yes, that is very reassuring, Albus," he replied sarcastically.

Albus merely smiled. "Lemondrop?"


	2. The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts.

All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's.

* * *

**Chapter Two: **

Hermione sighed deeply as she made her way to the dungeons, not really caring if Severus was able to keep up with the long striding walk this body was capable of. She couldn't believe Albus wouldn't let anyone know of this predicament. Well, she could understand keeping it from the students, one could never be sure about which students were Death Eaters in training, but why not the other professors? Min – Professor McGonagall was going to be _very _unhappy. _'Oh Merlin!'_ Hermione suddenly realized, _"Snape is going to die when he realizes what he's going to have to do to keep up this pretence.'_ She blushed furiously, giving the Potion Masters' face a rare glow of health.

Once they were in the correct hallway, Snape pushed ahead of her and led the way to his private chambers. He whispered the password at the portrait that guarded his rooms and ushered Hermione inside.

She was surprised to see that the stern, snarky man had pleasantly lush quarters. There were hints of his House colours throughout his rooms, but overall, the colours all complimented each other in a tasteful, subtle manner. It was quite pleasing. She turned to Snape who was sitting in his favourite leather chair, a guarded look on his new face. "You do realize you're going to have to tell me all your passwords, sir?"

Snape seemed to arguing with himself as he grimaced, then nodded. "Yes, Miss Granger, I am quite clear on what is expected of me. You shall have to do the same." He sighed as deeply as Hermione had. "Let's get this nonsense over with. Sit down and tell me about yourself so we can pull this rich façade off. Don't leave _anything_ out."

Hermione couldn't believe she was about to tell this greasy git her life story. She sat down heavily in the chair across from Snape, hands crossed. She stared at them while she gathered her thoughts.

"My full name is Hermione Jane Granger. My parents are both dentists. They named me after a character in Shakespeare's play "A Winter's Tale". They are accepting of my being a witch, but not of using magic as a quick fix. They were quite put out after they realized I let me teeth be reduced to normal size instead of the way they were originally. My birthday is September 19 and Crookshanks was a gift to myself in 1993. He's half tom-cat, half kneazle. During fourth year I was briefly involved with Viktor Krum, but that fell apart when I realized he wasn't my type. We still write on and off, but we'll never be more than friends. Ron still gets jealous when I mention him. I used to think he was being over-protective of me, but now I know that . . . well, never mind, it's not important." Hermione stopped to think. "Portable, water-proof fires are one of my specialities, I learned how to brew Polyjuice potion during second year, I set your robes on fire during first year, I took double classes third year using a time-turner . . ." she stopped when she realized Snape was staring at her, eyebrow quirked, mouth slightly agape. It was an odd look for the Potions Master and even odder seeing it on her own face.

"Bloody hell," Snape exclaimed. "What in Merlin's name did you set fire to me for, girl?"

Hermione shrugged. "I knew someone was trying to curse Harry off of his broom and when I scanned the boxes with my binoculars, I saw what you were doing and totally missed Quirrell. But when you stood up to stamp the flames out, you knocked him over and broke the spell anyhow. I do apologize for thinking you were trying to hurt him though."

Snape sighed. It was actually a bit funny, but he'd never admit that to Miss Granger. "And the Polyjuice?"

"So we could sneak into the Slytherin Common room to interrogate Draco about the Heir of Slytherin."

Snape was secretly amazed that a second year student, even one as bright as this girl would have been able to successfully brew such an advanced potion at such a young age. Though it answered the question as to who had broken into his storeroom. "I take it that it was this situation which led to your being turned into a cat, Miss Granger?"

Hermione leveled a look at him Snape found he didn't much like being on the receiving end of one of his stares. No wonder the students jumped in his presence. "Yes, Professor, it would."

Snape smirked, and let that particular line of questioning drop. "What do you know about me?"

Hermione pondered this. "You're an ex-Death Eater, a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, considered a son by Dumbledore, you're snarky and ill-considerate towards your students with the exception of the Slytherins," she took a quick glance around her, "and you have wonderful taste in decorating."

Snape's lips twitched into a brief smile. "I certainly hope that most of your knowledge does not extend to the entire student body. There is nothing else you need to know about me," he declared. "As I am sure you know, I am a _very_ private person both with staff and students. Albus knows the most about me and since he is aware of our . . . situation, he will hopefully steer you out of any awkward circumstances."

Hermione paused a moment, collecting her thoughts, looking for the right words. "Are you . . . involved with anyone, Professor?"

Snape snorted.

"I'll take that as a no," said Hermione.

"And yourself," asked Snape.

Snape watched his cheeks turned a darker red than he thought it was possible for someone to blush, and he'd embarrassed quite a number of students into it.

"I'll take that as a yes," Snape said, sarcastically mirroring her earlier words. "And with whom will I have the . . . _pleasure_ of consorting with while inhabiting your body?"

Hermione thought her face was going to explode. "Well, it's a person you know pretty well . . . it shouldn't be too difficult for you to interact with them . . ."

Snape gazed impassively at his student. "Yes, Miss Granger? How far along is this relationship?"

"Erm, well, you see . . . "

"What is his name, girl?"

"Well, see, Professor, there's something you don't know about me . . . "

"Miss Granger, I asked you to tell me _everything_ about yourself, did I not? I am quickly getting the feeling that what you are attempting to tell me is something of supreme importance, please stop rambling and get to the point."

'_If my face gets any hotter, my skin is going to melt off!'_ thought Hermione in despair. She sucked in a big breath of air. "I'm _gay_ professor!"

Snape quirked an eyebrow. _'This could be very . . . interesting,'_ he thought to himself. "Miss Granger, frankly, who cares? Unlike the Muggle world, it really isn't that big of a deal here in the Wizarding world. With all the reading you do, I'm surprised you haven't realized that yet."

'_Git,'_ thought Hermione. _'He won't be so snarky when I tell him who it is!'_

"Again, I ask you, what is _her _name?"

Hermione sighed. _'Here goes nothing.'_ "Minerva," she whispered, looking at her hands. When no response seemed forthcoming, she chanced a look at him.

He was simply sitting there, staring at her. Snape rose from his seat, strode to his liquor cabinet, pulled out a glass and the Ogden's Firewhiskey. He poured a neat shot and tossed it back. After a moment passed, without turning around, he muttered, "Please tell me that there is a student here that I am unaware that has the same first name as the _Deputy Headmistress!_"

"One and the same," said Hermione, barely above a murmur.

Before Snape could restrain himself, a slight "Urggh…." escaped his lips. He tossed back another tumbler. _'Just bloody brilliant. Guess we know why she's Minerva's favourite student'_ he smirked.

Deciding it couldn't get any worse than it already was, Hermione added, "She likes leather."

Snape, in a body that wasn't at all used to Firewhiskey, was reeling. Trying to regain his equilibrium, he didn't really catch what Hermione told him. He staggered over to his private stores and drank down a vial of hangover draught, knowing that in this body, he'd be sure to need it. It wouldn't do for the Head Girl to show up drunk to classes the next day.

Before the evening could get any more bizarre, Snape quickly informed Hermione of his passwords, how to get about Hogwarts without using the main halls, and then showed her a quick back way to the Head Girls rooms.

Hermione let herself in, making sure he would be able to do so as well, and introduced him to her cat. Thanks to his kneazle side, Crookshanks didn't seem very alarmed at the switch, and promptly went back to sleep. Hermione showed Snape where she kept her books, her notes, her schedule, and her clothes and other such items. "I do wear a little make-up, sir, but nothing you can't handle." She deftly showed him how to apply the bit of lipstick and blush that she wore, and how to tame her unruly hair.

When all was said and done, she turned to Snape and bid him goodnight. "One more thing, sir, Harry and Ron think I'm having extra _studies_ with Minerva."


	3. Body of Evidence

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's.

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

Severus closed the door behind Hermione and shook his head. Extra _studies_? How thick could those two boys really be? Well, he supposed it was reasonable enough, what, with all the classes Hermione tended to take. He wondered if Minerva had only given her the time-turner for extra classes . . . he hoped so. Hermione would have only been 13 then. He shuddered. He was suddenly curious as to how old the girl really was. Perhaps she used a glamour charm to conceal it if she was noticeably older than her classmates. He half-shrugged, deciding that _'finite incantatum'_ probably wasn't a good choice at the moment. He wasn't familiar enough with this body to be able to reconstruct the spell if she was in fact using one. As long as it didn't fade he should be fine, but he made himself a mental note to check that out at a later date. Perhaps Hermione was well past her majority by the time she got involved with Minerva. He shuddered again. Majority or not, the whole idea still repulsed him. Minerva was a friend and unexpected confidante from his student years; he was _not_ relishing the thought of experiencing something more intimate with her. He could have sworn the Head of Gryffindor had had a long-standing relationship with Albus.

He decided that before he even attempted to sleep, he should investigate the room that was now his. It wouldn't do if he was unable to find the correct clothes, or her homework or wand or her schedule although he was quite sure that Hermione was no doubt well organized and if he simply looked in the correct places, he would have no troubles; on the surface at least.

First there was the desk. It was arranged in an orderly fashion, much as he would have done, he was surprised to notice. A neatly penned schedule was fastened to the wall. He quickly duplicated it onto an extra parchment he found and reduced it. Wouldn't do for Hermione to suddenly forget her schedule! Next he located her book-bag and rifled through it, making sure he knew which folders contained which assignments, and that he had the appropriate books ready for tomorrow's classes. He sighed. How he was going to get through that he would never know.

He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the room. Thankfully the colour scheme was relatively neutral with only splashes of the tacky Gryffindor colours. He would be able to live with this while they sorted out this body-switching. Longbottom couldn't make a simple potion work, but he could create something new altogether. Snape wandered over to the closet to investigate further. Inside he found Hermione's robes hung neatly along with several skirts; a number of which Snape found too short to be decent for public wear, and a small wardrobe in which he located shirts, pants, socks, bras, knickers, and . . . a surprising amount of racy lingerie. _'Who was the girl trying to impress?'_ he wondered, holding one up against his new body, blushing as he realized just how little skin it would actually cover. He hastily shoved it back in the drawer. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn Crookshanks was smirking at him.

"Enough of this foolishness!" he exclaimed, trying to get used to hearing the bossy girl's voice. "Now remember," he told himself sternly, "answer to Hermione, and call them Ron and Harry, not Weasley and Potter . . . but Malfoy is still Malfoy." Snape stripped down, toss his clothes in a hamper and climbed gracefully into bed.

"Nox," he whispered, laying his head down and forcing himself to fall asleep. He admitted to himself that he was curious about his new body, but further discovery of it could wait.

Morning would be here too soon for his taste.

* * *

Down in the dungeons, Hermione was milling around. She thanked Merlin that she was in Advanced Potions and had been tutoring her less than fortunate classmates for years in the subject. She felt sure she would be able to teach without any problems. However she had to be one-hundred percent Snape while teaching; now _that_ was the issue she was worried about. Absently she began to chew on her bottom lip. _'Shit!'_ thought Hermione, a bit uncharacteristically. _'I absolutely cannot fall into my nervous habits. Snape would never do something like that. Bloody git probably doesn't **have** nervous habits. Calm down, Hermione! He's not a git. This isn't his fault, you just need to relax and sort things out.'_ She took a deep breath, and wandered into the Potions classroom to ascertain whether or not he had a lesson plan so that she would know what to cover in her classes tomorrow. She found lesson outlines and was suddenly glad she had made herself out to be a brainy know-it-all in _every_ class; barring Divination that is. She could certainly improvise. This told her all she needed to know: what potions they'd done and what potions they were doing next. At least she didn't have Snape in class tomorrow. Hopefully she'd be able to meet with him to discuss the advanced classes. Maybe she'd give him detention. She grinned at the thought, even though it would ultimately look like the Head Girl was in trouble. 

'_Alright, think, Hermione,'_ she thought savagely, with the same determination and worry she expressed during her first year immediately prior to her Sorting, _'what do I need to do to ensure that no one can tell I'm not really Snape?'_ An idea came to her, a flash as bright as a wand lit with _Lumos_. She'd make a list and keep it handy. As long as no one caught her referencing it, she'd be just fine.

She fetched a quill and parchment and penned: _Best ways to impersonate Professor Snape_. She eyed her handwriting. That had to go. It looked _nothing_ like his spidery, if careful, penmanship. She located some poor student's essay, liberally spattered with red comments, and charmed a handful of quills to write in said script.

She started the list over on fresh parchment. _'Much better,'_ she thought, this will fool anyone as long as I use one of these quills. She studied them objectively and charmed each of the twelve quills into lovely green feathers to set them apart, and then set herself down to compose _the list_.

1) Be a bloody git. Hermione herself may not consider the man a git, but near as she could tell just about everyone else did, so she'd have to go with it.

2) Snarky. That would need a bit of practice as it wasn't in her nature. She made a side note. _Act like you do when you're really annoyed with Ron_.

3) Figure out the billowing robes. Number three would be a dead give-away if the robes didn't billow out behind her like great bat wings.

4) Practice deducting points . . . from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Leave Slytherin alone.

5) Get a feel for the voice. Four and five would work well together. She smirked at an imaginary student. "That will be fifty points from Gryffindor for your cheek, _Potter_!" Hearing Snape's voice, not just aloud, but insider her own head as well made her shiver. He may not be Min, but the professor had a voice like steel-wrapped velvet that she could listen to all day.

5) Call your friends Potter and Weasley. Hermione sighed.

6) Be nice to Draco. She sighed again.

7) Glare. She had a feeling she'd be so annoyed that this wouldn't cause any issues at all.

8) Swoop. If she got number 3 down, this should work alongside of it nicely. She hoped. Image and all that.

9) Roam the halls at night. This she was used to, being Head Girl and all. Perhaps she'd be able to discuss certain issues with Snape at this time; if he didn't neglect in her duties of patrolling.

10) Deduct more points.

11) Hover threateningly over students. Too bad she couldn't do this to Draco.

Hermione reviewed her list and found it adequate. She tucked it neatly into one of her many pockets; the robe seemed to be nothing _but_ pockets, and swept off to explore the rest of the man's chambers. In the long hallway that connected his private rooms to his personal laboratory and the classroom, she conjured wizard mirrors, one on each end, and practiced swooping back and forth down the hallway until one of them complimented her on her sweeping stride and billowing robes. For now, it would suffice. She got rid of the mirrors and progressed into the man's bedroom. And stood still, mouth agape.

Snape's bedroom was _gorgeous_. There was no other word for it. It was spacious and tastefully decorated; not in House colours but in deep shades of blue. Snape owned the largest canopy bed Hermione had ever set eyes on. Well-known tapestries of Unicorns were draped here and there, sconces emitted a rich, buttery light, and a marble fireplace was nestled in one corner and kept the room at a much more palatable temperature than the rest of the dungeons were at. An enchanted window showed scenes of the night sky and Hermione recalled that the dungeons were under the lake. A rich carpet spread across the floor, crossing underneath the bed and out the other side, ending at the door to what must be his bathroom.

Tearing her eyes away from the unexpected lushness of the room, she made her way over to the wardrobe. Then she tried the dresser. "Bloody hell!" she exclaimed. "Doesn't the man have pyjamas anywhere?" A second rifling through drawers brought the only possible conclusion; he slept starkers. "Urggh!" was the only response Hermione could muster. She'd sleep in boxers and his body would like it or lump it.

She began unbuttoning his outer robes, and then his inner robes, and then his frock coat and . . . _'Merlin! How many buttons did he fasten up every morning? Was it really necessary for the man to wear so many layers?_' She finally made it down to the boxes, and quickly slipped under the covers. She did _not_ want to think about it, much less risk _seeing_ it.

Hermione fell into an uneasy slumber. Her nerves were fraught with tension.

She awoke the next morning just as tense. Unfortunately her tension had moved to a central location. Her boxers. She stared at the tent in horror and disbelief. What was she to do with this . . . new development?

She also had to pee.

Hermione walked awkwardly to the bathroom and dropped her boxers on the ground. She just couldn't touch _it_, and sat down on toilet as she would have in her own body. Nothing happened. She _really_ had to pee and she couldn't. Being a guy _sucked._ Hermione sighed. Now she understood why guys took cold showers. She stepped into the shower and turned it on, holding back a yelp at the frigid water, standing there until the pressure went down and she could change the temperature to something more pleasing. She looked about for the shampoo. There wasn't any, just a small bottle of what appeared to be body wash. If that's what he used for shampoo – or if, evidently, he used none at all, it would explain why he got called _greasy git_. Hermione sighed again. She hated to call on a house elf, but found no other option. Making sure the shower curtain was firmly closed, she snuck a hand out and rang the bell she had seen sitting on the counter.

Mere seconds later, an elf appeared. "Yes, Master Snape, Sir?" squeaked the elf. "What can Muffy do for you?"

'_Muffy?'_ thought Hermione. She wondered who the fool was that named these elves. Their names just got worse and worse.

"It would appear that I am out of my regular shampoo," she told the elf.

"Muffy will get you some, sir, just hold on one second, Master Snape, sir!"

Two quick pops later, and a small arm was handing her a heavy bottle around the curtain. "Is Master Snape needing anything else, sir?" Hermione looked around the shower. She supposed what she had would do for now.

"No," she said stiffly to the waiting elf, "I have what I need."

The elf disappeared with another _pop_ and Hermione was left alone. She stepped back under the shower and soaked her new hair through and through. When she felt it was wet enough, she squeezed a good-sized dollop of shampoo in her hand and began to wash. When the rich black hair was finally clean enough for Hermione, she rinsed herself off and stepped out of the shower, quickly wrapping herself in the robe she found, lest she catch an unwanted glimpse of her professor's body in the mirror.

Hermione realized she still had to pee. She sat back down and relieved the pressure that was nearly painful by this point. Then she pondered this newest problem. _'Do I wipe it off?'_ Before she could help herself, an old Muggle advertisement ran through her head, _'A little dab will do ya!' _Oh boy. She took a few squares of toilet paper and tried to blot herself off without actually looking at what she was doing. She thought she was going to die right then and there.

* * *

Several floors up, Severus was having an equally frustrating morning. The sunlight, which he was quite unused to, had woken him as it crept across his face. He stretched, and strode into the bathroom to prepare for the day. Much to his chagrin, he nearly made quite a mess before it occurred to him that _sitting_ would be the best course of action for the bathroom in this body. That chore done with, he nimbly climbed into the shower and drenched himself under the soothing warm water. Thoroughly wet, he turned to examine the various products that lined Hermione's shower wall. _'Thank Merlin they're labeled,'_ thought Snape. He noticed that these were not Muggle products and that they seemed to be home-made. _'I wonder what else Hermione's been brewing off to the side?'_ wondered Snape. He fetched the shampoo and carefully washed his hair. Snape knew that his students thought him to have no personal hygiene of his own, but the fact of the matter was that most Potions Masters could be labeled _greasy_ due to the number of cauldrons they worked over, day in, day out. He did at least make sure to wash his skin carefully, and if the dunderheads that Albus called students ever thought about it, they'd have realized ages ago that if he didn't wash at all, they would have been able to smell him when he swooped around their stations to check their work. 

That done, he moved on to the conditioner and then the body wash. He groaned. He felt a bit of a pervert as he soaped Hermione's rather large breasts and ample curves, her narrow waist, soft thighs and mmm…_ 'Quick man! Think of potions ingredients. Think of Hooch in a bikini! Miss Granger is your student, for Merlin's sake!'_ Needless to say, he washed the rest of the young woman's body rather quickly. He sighed. Now he smelled like . . . flowers and vanilla with a hint of honey and brown sugar. It was a pleasant smell, he grudgingly admitted to himself. It smelled nice on Hermione's skin. Snape mentally slapped himself – _'Wolfsbane! Asphodel! Stewed Ashwinder Eggs -- shoot, those were all ingredients for lust potions! Hooch, Hooch in a bikini, Albus in a bikini – now there was a truly frightening thought'_; it would do him no good to be thinking of the Head Girl in that manner, even if he was living in her body for the time being. _'At least in this body there would be no obvious signs of his arousal.'_

_

* * *

_

Back in the dungeons, Hermione was inspecting her appearance. _'Gawds, how could the man stand to have such yellow teeth?' _Hermione wondered. No wonder he didn't notice the difference in her teeth that year. Given, she was a bit biased, having dentists for parents, but the man was a wizard! Why didn't he just charm them clean? She scrubbed at them for about ten minutes before giving up and using an ever so small of a charm to take the worst of it off so she could stand it. At least his . . . her breath was much better. Next there was the hair. She had combed it dry and took a look. It fell in soft waves around her face, glossy and shiny. This would never do. She couldn't _unwash _it, so she did the next best thing. She slipped into his private laboratory and stood over the most noxious brew she could find for a few minutes. When she stepped back into the bathroom, the soft wavy, glossy look was gone. It was still shiny, but more towards that greasy-shiny than clean-shiny look, though it still felt nice enough. It would have to suffice. She was starving. It had taken forever to put all of Snape's clothes on. _'Far, far too many buttons,' _she thought again. She wondered what the man had for breakfast. No doubt the elves knew and would place something appropriate at her seat in the Great Hall.

* * *

Snape was staring at himself morosely in the mirror. It was an odd thing, he realized, to be looking at yourself ostensibly, but seeing someone else's reflection. He gingerly picked up the blush and attempted to spread it across his cheeks as Hermione had instructed. He did the same with the lipstick. He looked too pink for his taste. He had no idea if he was even wearing enough, but Hermione never seemed as if she were wearing make-up, not that he'd really studied her that closely, so he took a tissue and blotted his cheeks and lips until he was satisfied. 

He moved back into the bedroom to dress. He decided that it was a good thing that Hermione's clothes were button-ups, not pull-overs or the clothes would be wearing the makeup and he'd have had to reapply it. _'It will be the little things,'_ Snape thought, _'the little things that will blow this illusion.'_ Suitably dressed, he gathered up his book bag and stepped out of his room for the Great Hall. Breakfast would be the first test.


	4. This, too, shall pass

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's.

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

Halfway down to the Great Hall, Severus was joined by Wea—Ron and Pot—Harry. _'Somewhere the Fates are laughing at me,'_ thought Severus.

"Hullo, Hermione!" exclaimed the boys, "How are you this morning?"

The urge to be dour was overwhelming and with this new body, he was learning that it was hard to mask his emotions. Luckily it would seem that either Hermione wasn't a morning person or that Ron and Harry simply were not very observant people. Then again, how many teenage boys are very observant if it doesn't have to do with sex, food, or sports? "Fine, thanks," said Severus.

The three students made their way into the Great Hall, Harry and Ron laughing over something and Severus trying to look interested until he realized it was Quidditch. He knew that from his own observations that while Hermione would support the boys when they were actually playing, she tended to tune out discussions of the sport; thus, he was safe in doing the same. It wouldn't do for Hermione to suddenly express a heretofore absent interest in Ron and Harry's favourite sport.

They sat down in their usual spots at the Gryffindor table, and waited for the food to make an appearance.

The doors suddenly swung open with a _bang_ as Professor Snape swooped towards his seat in the Great Hall.

Severus watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye, glad that she got the movement of his robes down so quickly and that she obviously knew where he sat at the High Table.

Hermione was _starving_. She took her seat at Snape's place and waited for his breakfast to materialize. With a soft _pop_ a mug of extremely potent black coffee appeared. She waited. Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming. _'Didn't the man eat?'_ she wondered. She scowled at the table. A small piece of toast appeared. _'Well, that's better than nothing,'_ Hermione decided as she took a bite followed by a sip of the coffee. She nearly spit it out it was so strong. She scowled again, this time directing it at the 'Golden Trio'

"Wow, Hermione," said Ron nervously, "Snape's looking your way and he looks bloody ticked off. Did the potion have some bad result?"

Severus chanced a glance at Hermione, noticing the way his . . . her brows were knit together, the way her lip curled in disgust . . . and the mug of coffee in her hand. _'Gods how he wanted that cup . . . he would do anything for it,'_ thought Severus with an inaudible sigh. He shrugged at Ron and Harry. "I don't know, I guess Snape's just in a bad mood this morning."

"You must be too," commented Harry.

"Why do you say that?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "You called him _Snape_, like we do, 'Mione, and you're _forever_ telling us that we need to be respectful and call him _Professor_ Snape and that he's not a git, and you know, all of that," explained Ron.

Severus was surprised though he was careful not to show it. _'Miss Granger defends me?'_ "I guess I'm just tired, Ron," he told them, "The Draught of Living Death takes a lot out of you," he continued, thinking idly that not having one's morning coffee also takes a lot out of you and no doubt by the end of the day everyone would be steering clear of Hermione.

Hermione was having similar thoughts as she watched Snape watch her. She slipped her hands into her robes and conjured a clear glass vial into which she discretely poured the remaining coffee. One sip had told her it wasn't for her. She'd slip back down to the dungeons and have a house elf bring her something before her first class. She hated the thought of going through them but didn't see any other alternative for the meantime.

She slipped out of her seat and strode towards the Gryffindors.

The boys looked on suspiciously while the girl just eyed her appraisingly. "Miss Granger," she said stiffly as she handed her the vial, "It is imperative that you take this _potion_ as soon as possible to help with any after effects of the accident. You will take it as many mornings as it is deemed necessary."

Severus eyed the vial and then eyed Hermione. "What is it, sir?"

"Don't ask foolish questions, girl, just drink it. I'm not out to poison the lot of you, despite what you may think."

Severus uncorked the vial and sniffed it. _'Coffee, it's my coffee, thank Merlin!'_ Without a second thought he drank down the entire vial and handed the bottle back to Hermione. "Thank you, Professor Snape," he said.

Hermione merely nodded at him and swept out of the Hall.

* * *

The coffee much improved Severus's mood and he felt much more able to attend Hermione's classes. He got through Advanced Charms, Herbology, and Arithmancy without any difficulty as they were all classes he had excelled at himself; he was relived to find that nothing had really changed. Hermione's wand worked well enough for him, though he lacked some of the finesse he had with his own, but his skill in the subjects made up for the lack. 

After lunch came Expert Transfiguration. Severus was truly dreading this class. Not only was it a subject he was never that skilled in, considering it _foolish wand waving_, even though he did pass his NEWTS with top marks, he was also dreading facing the Deputy Headmistress. _'Merlin only knows what Hermione's usually like in class,'_ thought Severus in despair. He only hoped that they were discrete enough to act like nothing was afoot behind-the-scenes while in class. Thankfully, it seemed that their classroom relationship was quite professional.

After class, Severus gathered his belongings together as quick as he could and made to escape while the professor was busy. This was where his luck started to dry up.

"Miss Granger," called Professor McGonagall.

'_Bloody hell,'_ he thought, _'Almost made it.'_ "Yes, Professor?" he said, turning around to face the older woman.

"You did very well today, Hermione, but some of your wand movements were a little off," the Deputy Headmistress explained, "I think you need to come by this evening for some _extra lessons_. The potions accident from the other day and your stay in the hospital seems to have affected your skill. Remember I said you need to practice _every_ night – especially if you hope to perfect your animagus form."

"Yes, Professor," said Severus. "What time should I come by?"

Minerva eyed her student appreciatively. "Let's say eight o'clock, shall we? That will give us both time for dinner, and then you can meet me in my private chambers, Hermione. Does that suit you?"

'_No! It doesn't suit me at all!'_ Severus wanted to exclaim. Instead he murmured, "Yes, Professor, that suits me fine." Severus smiled, a bit timidly, at the older woman, and traipsed back to his room.

Minerva watched her go; eyes so bright as to rival Albus.

* * *

By the time Hermione had reached the dungeons, waylaid by practicing her best smirks and snarkiness by deducting points from quite a number of students, Slytherins aside, of course, and ensuring that she had everything she needed for her first class, she had had no time to eat what she considered a real breakfast, making her nearly as irritable as Severus would find himself over the course of the next week. _'Perhaps we'll just let him walk into that one,'_ thought Hermione. _'I may respect the man, but good old fashioned revenge is often sweet . . . if a little bit messy when one doesn't see it coming, or even have any reference points to expect it!'_

Hermione was pacing back and forth in the classroom, eying her first year students as they attempted to brew the standard first year boil curing potion. She prayed that none of these students had _skills_ reminiscent of Longbottom that would result in one or more students being coated with foul substance resulting in a trip to the infirmary to remove said boils.

The students were used to their professor glaring at them and swooping up and down the aisles to check for the tiniest of infractions, so his pacing across the front of the classroom somehow seemed like a better deal to the unsure students.

Unfortunately, one of them caused an explosion anyway; one worthy of Longbottom. Hermione caught sight of the mess as it started to boil over and cast a containment charm on it while glaring at the luckless students paired at the cauldron. Hermione's fast reflexes saved the classroom as well as most of the students from injury and destruction. The duo working on the potion, however, had started to sport a few nasty boils. Apparently the potion had splattered a bit before it started to noticeably boil over the sides. "Mr. Hooper, please escort Ms. Redman to the infirmary at once and since you were the last one to touch the potion, stay with her until Madam Pomfrey says she will live." The students, sufficiently cowed, headed towards the door. "Oh, and twenty points from Ravenclaw for your carelessness, Mr. Hooper," Hermione said with a smirk.

At last the morning classes were over and she could relax in her office. She stared at the pile of papers that needed marking, finally grabbing a handful, hoping to make a dent in them, though, given the sheer ineptness of the students she'd taught this morning, she doubted she'd find any essays that weren't _calling_ to be slaughtered by the quill. _'Thequill **is** mightier than the sword!'_

As she worked on the essays, she heard a knock at the classroom door. "Enter," she called magnanimously. She heard the door open and then slam shut. _'Must be 'me'.'_

She turned to see herself, a bit flushed and scowling staring at her.

"Yes, Miss Granger? To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Severus scowled at her. "Drop the act, Hermione," hissed Severus. "No one's in the classroom, and there are silencing charms on this office. I get to _enjoy_ extra _studies_ starting tonight."

Hermione grinned. The look was quite odd on Severus's wan face. "You're lucky they didn't start when we were still in the infirmary," she growled, "Minerva gets lonely quite fast."

"Swell," was the only response to this new information. After a pause, Severus asked, "You're training to be an animagus?"

"Yes, we started a few weeks ago."

"Do you have a form yet? Minerva said we'd be working on that tonight . . . I'm not sure if _my_ form will affect yours any when practice comes about. That is if we're actually doing anything that would constitute as _school_ work tonight," this last bit came off quite put out.

Hermione considered this. "I've never read anything that would lead me to believe it would be a problem, yet I suppose we are in a rather unique situation."

"You Gryffindors do have a way with stating the obvious, Hermione. _Do you have an established form?_"

Hermione frowned at Severus.

"No, _Severus_, I do not. Min wanted to firmly establish the theory of the transformation before any attempt was made on my part. What I would like to know is, what is _your_ form and will it leave a lingering affect effecton whatever my form should be or should have been?"

Severus could only shake his head. "That I do not know, Hermione, we shall have to wait and see. The only bit of luck I see left here is that you do not have a shape yet, therefore if I transform into my own animagus for during _lessons_, Minerva will be none the wiser as she's never seen mine."

"Tsk, tsk, Severus. Unregistered, are we?"

Severus scowled at Hermione. "Well wouldn't you be if you were a spy for the Dark Lord?"

Hermione smiled. "True, I suppose that slipped my mind. I'm not used to wearing the Dark Mark." Hermione shuddered slightly at this thought. "Would I be able to transform while in your body?"

"And let us pray, Miss Granger that you never have to feel the terrible pull of the Mark either." Severus thought about her question. "I suppose you would be able to, but if you haven't attempted it before you could risk being stuck that way and then we'd really have a mess on our hands. If you stay in your animagus form too long, you risk being stuck like that forever unless someone who shares the same or very similar form can lure you back out. Your mind gets stuck in the animal mentality."

"Hmmm," mused Hermione. "Min mentioned something about that, but she didn't go into much detail. I think she's hoping I'll be a kitty so that we can have another way to play together."

Severus shuddered in pure horror. "I _really_ didn't want to know _that_, Miss Granger! Bleargh!"

Hermione grinned. Severus noted that the look actually suited his face and made him appear younger than his years. Not that he had any intentions to go around grinning like a fool when he got his body back. Though the idea had merit in as such it would certainly terrorize a few students to see their dreaded Potions Master _smiling_ at them.

Hermione checked the time. "You'd better get going or you won't have much time for dinner before your extra lessons, Severus."

He nodded. "Have you decided on lessons for the Advanced class for tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I think I know what will be best; but I think I'll just let you wait and see like everyone else. Go on."

Severus scowled. Hermione scowled back. Severus stepped back nervously. _'Yep, he was definitely intimidating; he'd be on his way now.' _

Hermione grinned to herself as Severus scampered away. Her body just couldn't handle some of his more graceful exits and he had to settle for more _girly_ ones, as he had put it. Scowling did not suit her face, it made her look pouty. She needed to train him out of that particular habit; at least while he was wearing her skin.

* * *

Severus was sauntering back upstairs to head for dinner when the drawling tones of Malfoy caught his attention. 

"Well, if it isn't the _mudblood_ down in the snake's lair," he intoned, his voice sickening in its syrupy-sweet way. Severus hated it. He hated what Draco had said nearly as much. Hermione was bossy, and a know-it-all, but dragging such terms as _mudblood_ up really was low.

He turned and faced the blond Slytherin.

"And just what is the _mudblood_ doing, sullying the cool dungeon air for? Trying to worm your way into an apprenticeship? Professor Snape will never take a bossy wench like you."

Severus was livid. As if he'd take Malfoy for an apprentice. He really had no desire to take _any_ student as an apprentice, but although Malfoy had excellent marks in Potions, he had no desire nor care for the Potions he brewed. His potions were good and they worked well enough, but they had no deep magical signature imbrued in them which is what made them potent. Wouldn't Draco be surprised when "Severus" did indeed take "Hermione" as an assistant.

He smirked. This look he had more or less perfected on Hermione's softer features. It wasn't as intimidating as it would have been in his own skin, but it still elicted a delightful response in others.

"And what would a prat like you know about it? You're too much of a git to take potions when you need to because it would mean admitting there were things you couldn't handle."

"As if, Granger. You don't know _anything_ about me."

"You're a screamer, Malfoy, and you," her voice got low, "wet the bed," she hissed out.

"Are you taking the mickey, Granger? How dare you suggest . . ."

Severus placed one hand on his hip, shifted his weight and made a well-known dirty Slytherin gesture with the other. One he knew Malfoy would recognize as his _esteemed_ father was fond of it. One that indicated that through some means of Slytherin cunning, whatever had just been said was known by the speaker to be pure and utter truth.

Malfoy paled, turned tail and ran the other way.

Severus smirked. _'Glad to see I haven't lost my touch. Haven't used that little move since I was a student.'

* * *

_

He strolled the rest of the way to Great Hall feeling quite pleased with himself.

Severus lingered over dinner as long as possible. He was not looking forward to the evening's activities. _'Just my luck,'_ he thought. _'I'd never get a woman while in my own skin, and now that I'm in the skin of Hermione, who I suppose is pretty enough, and thankfully is attracted to woman . . .Merlin only knows what I'd do if I had to pretend interest in Ron or Harry! . . . and I'm stuck with Minerva, the old hag!'_

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to find Harry watching him intently. "Mione, are you okay? You seem . . . I don't know, sort of nervous."

Severus smiled to the best of his ability, willing himself not to flinch under Harry's touch. "I'm okay Harry. I'm . . . it's just that we might actually start into some more difficult lessons tonight . . ." he said vaguely, not sure how much they knew.

"But Hermione," protested Harry, "you love difficult lessons! You did fine brewing the Polyjuice our second year and I know for this you've read every single book on animagi that exists in Hogwarts!"

So they did know. He shook his head. "I've heard you can get stuck in your animal form if you're not careful though. Maybe I'm just remembering _my_ Polyjuice experience being half-human, half-cat!" she exclaimed despondently.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, but that potion wasn't meant for animal transfiguration, Hermione. What you're doing now _is_ meant for animal transformation, and you're a smart witch. I'm sure you'll do just fine, and if you get stuck, Professor McGonagall will be right there to help you." Harry finished reasonably.

Severus was surprised to find that the boy could think logically and appeared to be quite sensitive to his friends needs. _'Thank Merlin he isn't as dense as he would appear to be, or we'd all be in trouble.'_

He nodded morosely. "You're . . . _right_, Harry," he said, trying not to seethe with having to tell the boy he was right about something. Harry didn't notice. He put down his napkin. "I guess I should go, I'll catch up with you all later if it isn't too late."

He glanced up at the Head Table. Minerva was watching him intently. Severus felt he was being watched by something that considered him prey. Hermione was also at the High Table, glaring furiously at him. He frowned, almost not recognizing the emotion in her eyes as it was so out of place on his face. She was _jealous_!

* * *

The walk to Minerva's private chambers seemed far longer than usual, and at the same time, he was there all too soon for his liking. He raised a hand and knocked. _'I could still run away,'_ he thought. 

"Enter!" called out a jovial voice. She had gone the back way and beaten him.

Sighing heavily, he reached out his hand, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. His fate was now sealed.


	5. Jealousy Rears Its Snarky Head

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Keep an eye on the chapter names; they may be revealing – and you may find luscious little Rickmanisms if you keep your eyes open! Slave4Severus and I are glad you guys and gals are finding this as amusing as we are. We've spent many a night laughing our respective arses off plotting the adventures of our poor, hapless Severus (but we love him dearly). We'd love to know your thoughts on what's happening in addition to the humour though, if you don't mind, of course! _

_Love, MysticSong1978 and Slave4Severus_

**

* * *

Chapter Five: **

Severus stumbled back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He had no idea how he made it back. He was horrified and cowed for one of the few times in his life. After climbing through the portrait hole, he settled onto a chair, staring vacantly into space. Ron turned to look at him. "Mione, what's wrong?"

"So wrinkly . . . so gray and wrinkly . . ."

"Erm. . . what was that?" Ron looked confused.

Suddenly seeming to snap out of his daze, Severus looked up at Ron. "Nothing Ron; just tired from my lessons. Going to bed now!" He swooped out before Ron could say anything.

Once back in his room, Severus hurriedly stripped and jumped into the shower. He scrubbed his body clean, not at all shy, not now, not after his evening _studies_; struggling to remove eau de Minerva. When finished, he blindly searched for Hermione's toothbrush, using a huge dollop of toothpaste to rid his mouth of the taste of hers. He scrubbed his teeth, his tongue; even the roof of his mouth. He looked at the tube. He'd have to get a bigger size to keep up if he had any more _delightful_ evenings.

The next morning found Minerva sitting at the High Table, a cat-ate-the-canary grin on her face. _'I love when Hermione plays hard-to-get,'_ she mused to herself, reminiscing over the previous evening's activities. She had never seen the young woman put so much effort into her role playing. She was startled out of her reverie when a large form sat down next to her. She turned. It was just Severus. She went back to her thoughts.

Hermione was going nuts. Minerva smelled heavenly this morning. She took a long, careful sniff of the older woman, thanking Merlin for the divine sense of smell the Potions Master was blessed with. She could smell Minerva's sex. _'Damn!'_ she thought with frustration, _'Now I'm horny with no way to relieve it and . . .'_ Oh. Dear. She had forgotten that her new body would react visibly to such thoughts. _'Shit!'_

She shifted uncomfortably and caught Minerva staring at her with an odd expression.

Minerva couldn't make head-nor-tails of Severus's morning reaction. _'Had she caught him sniffing her?'_ And now Severus was actually blushing. What a strange morning this was becoming. Minerva turned away from Severus, as if looking over her other shoulder, and discretely sniffed herself. _'Whoops,'_ she thought, catching a whiff of herself and the faint aroma of her student, _'I suppose I should bathe before class.'_

Severus did not make an appearance for breakfast.

* * *

Ron and Harry were trying to get into the Head Girls' room. The wards kept rejecting them which meant their friend was really upset by something. "I dunno, Harry, she seemed kind of flaky last night, but I figured it was just a girl thing." 

"Didn't you say she was all worried about something and muttering about being all gray and wrinkly? Maybe her animagus form is an elephant and she didn't want to tell us. Not very useful for spy work, but she could sure squash the hell out of the Death Eaters!" sniggered Harry.

Finally the door opened to reveal Hermione. Her face was blotchy from crying and she was still in her pyjamas.

"Mione!" exclaimed both boys. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Severus just shook his head. _'Damn girl hormones, made me cry!'_ although he did have to admit it had been a rather traumatic experience, but still, he had a reputation to maintain; and so, he felt, did Hermione.

"I – I don't feel well," he stuttered. "Make my excuses to Professor Snape, please, Harry."

Ron was gobsmacked. "You're skiving off the greasy git's class! Wow, you must really be sick!"

Harry elbowed Ron. He was never much for tact or subtly. "Do you want me to bring you anything back, Hermione?"

Severus glared at Ron. He knew now that he was safe to defend himself as Hermione apparently did. "He is _not_ greasy, Ron, and he's a professor, even if you're not in his class anymore. You should treat him respectfully!"

"How would you know if he's greasy or not, Hermione," said Ron, "been sleeping with him? Maybe that's how you get your grades! Snogging your professor?"

Severus blanched. It would _not_ do for that rumor to get started. Unfortunately, out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed Miss Brown and Mr. Creevy walk by. _'Shite!'_ Given, Ron was sort of on the right path, even if he had the wrong professor in mind, but instead of one of his more sarcastic comments that Ron was never able to refute came to mind, he found himself retorting with, "Oh, is that why you're the Quidditch Captain, Ron? Been shagging Madam Hooch?"

Ron looked quite green.

Harry forced himself between his two friends. _'About time to buy Hermione chocolates again,'_ he thought tiredly. "C'mon Ron, you know better than to scrap with Hermione when she's tired . . . or, really, well, anytime. You never win. Let's get to class." He turned to Hermione. "I'll tell Professor Snape you're not feeling well, though with the way he looked at breakfast, I don't think it will go over too well."

Severus paled.

* * *

Hermione had waited until the entire hall had cleared out from breakfast which was no easy feat. She wasn't sure how well the robes would cover her latest _development_ and was sure that Severus wouldn't be caught dead sporting a . . . _problem_ like that for the whole school to see. Luckily he didn't have a class first thing. 

She was a smart, no, brilliant witch, and she knew how guys would deal with this sort of thing, but she couldn't bring herself to touch _it._ The scent of Minerva still in her nose made things even . . . harder. Back in the safety of her rooms, she browsed through Severus's library until she found what seemed like a reasonable spell for her affliction. It had been marked, leaving her to conclude it had been used before. _'Could the poor man not bear to touch his own body?'_ She pointed the wand and with the movements described in the book, muttered _erectus redeo!_ The absence of tension indicated it had worked. A furtive patting through the robes told her everything was still there. She breathed a great sigh of relief. She would simply have to be more careful with her thoughts in the future.

Hermione strode into Advanced Potions, surreptitiously eyeing the room. Severus was nowhere to be seen. Harry, however, perhaps for the first time ever, had his hand up. Something was afoot.

"Yes, Mr. Potter? What is it?"

"Hermione said to tell you that she wouldn't be in class today as she wasn't feeling well. I stopped by to see her and she really does look quite dreadful, sir."

Hermione scowled. He hadn't been at breakfast either. She wondered what had happened that would make the man miss his own class. Had last night really been so awful for him?

"Tell Miss Granger that unless she can produce a valid note from Madam Pomfrey, and you better believe I can detect forgeries, than she will be serving detention with Filch for several nights."

Potter nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll let her know right after class."

Hermione had planned to let them continue working on their failed attempts from last week, but now Harry was short a partner. His Potions skills had improved tenfold, but she was hesitant to let him create Polyjuice totally unaided, and while in Severus's body she couldn't very well help the "bane of his existence".

She pondered this. She certainly hadn't accounted for the professor's absence. _'Complicated potions that they cannot screw up,' _she mused. She waved her wand at the board. "You will be creating _adamo simils_," she instructed the students. "Get your ingredients and get to work," she growled. "You have 40 minutes. At the end of class you will be testing your concoctions on each other."

"What does it _do_, Professor?" drawled Draco Malfoy.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Malfoy and swirled to face the other students.

"Class?"

To Hermione's amazement, Longbottom's hand was in the air. "Longbottom?"

"It-it creates a feeling si-similar to t-th-that of being in l-love," said the nervous boy.

Hermione smiled. It looked scary on Severus's face, and poor Neville grew even paler. "Well, it seems there is something inside that head of yours, Longbottom. I was beginning to wonder." Hermione hated being nasty to the shaky Gryffindor, but what else could she do without giving their situation away? "Five points to Gryffindor, Longbottom. Let's see if your potion merits that or if we'll have to take them away for another useless potion."

Longbottom's potion appeared passable at the end of class. Severus may not have been pleased with it, but Hermione let it go. It wouldn't kill anyone, after all and from the colour and consistency, would have no ill-effects.

"If your potion has the consistency of applesauce and is light pink in colour, you have correctly brewed the _adamo simils_," said Hermione. "Bottle up your potion, label it, and leave your sample on my desk. Before you clean up your workstation, however, I want you to take a small dose – approximately a quarter-vial – and pick a partner to test it with. If you do not have a partner, come and see me."

Unsurprisingly, Draco was left unpartnered. He smirked as he brought his potion up to his professor.

"Your magical signature should be imbued in the potion you have created. Your partner will drink your potion. When you look at them, they should temporarily feel as if they are in love with you. It will wear off before this class is over."

Knowing that someone would be unpartnered with Severus's absence, Hermione had brewed just enough for the extra person to take. She handed her vial to Draco, and took his. Since Draco never felt anything for anyone, she doubted that he would notice that he wasn't getting that warm fuzzy feeling from the potion if it didn't work correctly. Not that her potion was anything but perfect, but the magical signature in hers was _hers_, not Severus's.

Everyone took a sip, maintaining eye contact with their partner. Hermione felt as if she were wrapped in a warm cocoon. She stared dreamily at the platinum-haired boy in front of her. Only the firm resolve that this body seemed to have, regardless of who was currently residing in it, kept her from doing in the professor's reputation. Draco, on the other hand, was rubbing her arm, staring lustfully at his professor. _'Well, at least I know that the person with whom you have eye contact with while imbibing it definitely plays a big role in how this potion works,'_ she thought, trying unsuccessfully to remove Malfoy's arm from her person.

Finally, though not soon enough for Hermione, the potion began to wear off, and partners who had been smiling dopily at each other, some had gotten as far as hugging and cuddling – the potion wasn't truly strong enough for anything else in the dosage she had had them create – jumped back from each other as if they'd been suddenly hexed. Draco's eyes became hooded once more, but not before Hermione saw something flicker thoughtfully in them. _'Shite,'_ thought Hermione, _'I hope nothing bad comes of this little experiment.'_

Most of the students were looking bemusedly at each other as they exited the classroom. Malfoy, however, looked cool and calculating. Trouble was definitely brewing.

* * *

Back at the Head Girl's room, Harry related the message about detention to Hermione. Severus paled at the thought of detention with Filch. He knew all about the nasty things he made students do. Some topped his own detentions in levels of nastiness, and that no easy feat. He was not pleased to hear he'd given Longbottom points, but he was no less pleased to hear Draco had been so stupid that he hadn't heard of such a simple, if complicated to brew, potion as the _adamo simils_. "Thank you, Harry," he said. "I'll go get a note from Madam Pomfrey right now." 

"I'll go with you," Harry offered.

He didn't want any company, not really, but he couldn't bear it if he ran into Minerva on his own, so he agreed. Harry, much to Severus's chagrin, took Hermione's arm and lead her towards the infirmary. _'Harry doesn't know what Hermione is really seeing Minerva for . . . I wonder if Harry's sweet on her. Urrgh, that's just what I need! Affections from the Boy Who Lived, the bane of my existence.'_ Severus sighed. Harry rubbed her back.

"It will be alright, Hermione," and if you need to talk about anything, you know where to find me, he told his friend fondly.

Hermione nodded. When they were nearly at the infirmary, they intersected Ron coming the other way.

"Ron?" questioned Harry, "what's up, mate?"

"Oh, I just had a bit of a mishap in Herbology. Nothing serious. What are you doing here?"

"Hermione needs a note from Pomfrey or she'll be serving detention with Filch."

Ron nodded stiffly.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Severus said, knowing an apology was in order. "I had a really bad night last night and I couldn't deal with your teasing."

Harry gave Ron a look.

Ron sighed. "I shouldn't have said what I did, Mione, I'm sorry."

He held out his hand and Severus shook it, thankful he didn't have to hug the boy.

To Severus's surprise, Ron stepped back and placed a gentle hand on Harry's back before leaning into whisper something in his friend's ear that made Harry blush. Ron smirked. Severus was confused.

"Come by later if you need to talk, Mione," said Harry, his face still red. "I need to go with Ron right now."

"Sure, sure Harry, no problem," said Severus, completely befuddled at this turn of events. He slipped into the infirmary. Had he turned back to see Hermione's friends departing, he would have seen Harry slip an arm around Ron, in the starkly affectionate gesture of a lover that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

Madam Pomfrey eyed her patient. She was one of the few that knew the truth of this situation. She suppressed a laugh when Severus told her she needed a note to escape detention with Filch. She couldn't imagine what had lead the stiff man to skip his own class when he had made it through Hermione's classes the other day without a problem, and Severus wasn't telling. Deciding she couldn't really force an adult to tell her his secrets, she let it go and handed Severus the requested note.

* * *

Severus was in his room sulking. Minerva had petitioned for his presence again this evening. A gleam in her eye had warned the dour, and frankly, scared . . . or was it scarred . . . perhaps a bit of both . . . man that something was in the works. He was certain it couldn't be anything good. 

Harry came by his room to fetch him for dinner. He shrugged and went with him. He needed to eat if he was going to survive tonight.

In the Great Hall, Severus sat in his now usual spot with Harry and Ron. He grudgingly admitted to himself that they weren't such bad company. _'It could be worse; I could have ended up in a Hufflepuff's body.'_ Severus tried to keep his eyes on his plate, but his House-mates made this impossible.

"What on earth is up with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape?" he heard Seamus ask Ginny Weasley.

The red-head shrugged. "Professor McGonagall seemed really . . . gleeful, and, I hesitate to say it, but _devious_ comes to mind," she said. "I didn't have Snape today, though," she continued. "Harry?"

Harry looked up from his whispered conversation with Ron. "Yeah?"

'_Ever eloquent, Harry,'_ Snape mused.

"Was Snape acting weird today?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Take a look at the High Table!" exclaimed Seamus.

With trepidation, Severus turned his face to the High Table to observe Minerva and Hermione.

Minerva's expression would almost pass as normal, but for the fact that her cheeks were stained with blush and she kept darting a questioning eye towards the person she assumed was Severus Snape.

Hermione looked as if she had been hit with a large dose of some illegal love potion. Severus was horrified. His normally sallow face was nearly as red as Minerva. _'What the hell was that girl thinking?'_ He took her uncomfortable position and nearness to Minerva into consideration. _'I probably don't want to know,'_ he mused, _'but she simply cannot act like some foolish love-sick puppy in my body!'_

Hermione was shifting back and forth in her chair. She desperately needed to recast _erectus redeo_, but didn't dare do so in the middle of the Great Hall. Minerva had that lovely gleam in her eyes that told Hermione that she was wearing her favourite outfit under those green robes that had made Hermione call her "Biker Chick McGonagall". Idly, she wondered if Severus had heard her when she mentioned that Minerva liked leather, or if he'd been to drunk from taking two shots of Firewhiskey in a body that wasn't used to it. _'I may be horny and jealous of him right now, but revenge is truly getting sweeter and sweeter. Severus is in for a round of surprises tonight!' _Hermione was practically drooling. It made the figure known to the great hall as 'the greasy git' look decidedly odd.

Minerva couldn't take much more of this. She finally turned and put a hand on Severus's. He twitched oddly. "Severus, are you alright? Was there a potions accident? You're acting like someone slipped you a lust potion or some such foolishness."

Hermione looked deep into Minerva's eyes and dropped her gaze to her parted lips. _'Oh, how she wanted to kiss them!'_ The sudden intake of breath by Minerva brought her to her senses and she realized where she was. The Great Hall was nearly silent, watching this truly bizarre interaction. Hermione schooled her face into an expressionless mask. "I believe that one of the potions tested today had an adverse reaction, Minerva," she said, her voice like steel, "I may have to deduct some House Points . . . from Slytherin." _'Damn that Draco,'_ she thought, _'raging jealousy or not, I thought that potion tasted stronger than it should have. He put something else in it that had a delayed effect.'_ She noticed that Draco wasn't watching the professors at the moment, but his face had a decidedly red tinge to it; suppressed fury no doubt. _'Now what was that little snake up to?'_

Severus, relieved that Hermione had given up her lustful intentions in public, followed her gaze. _'So, ickle Malfoy had something to do with this. He'd just have to go to the next potions class . . . or maybe get down to talk to Hermione after the Minerva-experience tonight and find out what was going on. She should still have a sample of Malfoy's potion left that they could test.'_

As the Great Hall cleared out, Severus said goodnight to Harry and Ron, explaining that Professor McGonagall wanted to see her again tonight to discuss a solution to something they had been working on; he figured they wouldn't really be interested enough to ask what it was, and that afterwards she had to go talk to Professor Snape to ensure she didn't get detention with Filch.

Harry and Ron nodded, still giggling over the image of Snape about to kiss their Head of House.

Severus sighed. This day couldn't get much worse. Unfortunately, he was mistaken.

* * *

At Minerva's door, he knocked, and entered at her forthcoming "Come in!" 

Severus stared, mouth agape. He nearly forgot to shut the door. Minerva was clad in a full body, tight black leather ensemble, complete with a whip. _'She wouldn't dare!'_

But it seems that she would.

Severus left for the dungeons several hours later. Minerva had whipped him, leaving red trails down his back and legs which were still rather wobbly. Minerva was an insatiable sex monster. There was no doubt about it; Severus had been thoroughly fucked. _'Damn this body for liking it when I don't!'_ Severus was thoroughly pissed. But he couldn't help but wonder what Minerva would say if she learned the truth. That thought would sustain him for the rest of his evenings with the harridan, relishing the thought of making her blush, faint, or die, or better yet, all of the above, when he had his own body back.

_Latin Translations:_

_Erectus Redeo_ – to reduce or lesson something that is erect

_Adamo simils_ – to create a feeling to that of having fallen in love.

_Artwork: _

_To see a "family tree" of this story (it will update as the plot develops further), please visit MysticSong1978's webpage (accessible through her profile). There's a link in the middle of the first page that says 'Mystic's Art, etc' - go there for eFiction art and extras!_


	6. Interlude

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

By MysticSlave

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

_  
Author's Note:_

There is some minor swearing in this.

Also, to zed the anonymous reviewer. Yes, the Latin may not have been perfect; I (MysticSong1978) never took Latin; did Russian instead. I did at least do research to find the correct terms even if they are not in the correct _form_. My Mother knows Latin but they weren't really terms I wanted to go ask her about.

In addition, I have turned anonymous reviews _off_ for the time being. We received a very rude and wholly inappropriate review for this particular story. In as such I would like to remind everyone that these are 7th year students and therefore they are **of age**. No one who is involved in any activity of an intimate nature will be underage. We don't write those. Additional chapters that we believe would be beyond what this website's managers would be happy with are being posted at a more appropriate story website.

Enjoy!

_MysticSong1978 & Slave4Severus

* * *

_

**Chapter Six:**

A sore, well-worn Severus slipped cautiously into his private chambers, not knowing if Hermione would hex him on the spot assuming a student had tried to break the wards.

He found her sitting in his favourite chair, staring vacantly into space. He walked around until he was facing her. "Hermione?" No reaction. "Miss Granger!"

She jumped, looking at him with a vague, annoyed expression. It cleared when she realized who was there. "Severus! I'm sorry; obviously I didn't hear you come in. What can I do for you?"

"You can get me the bloody hell away from Minerva!"

"Ooh, problems in paradise?" trilled Hermione caustically.

"Paradise? You call being whipped by a leather-clad bitch Paradise?"

Hermione sighed dramatically. "Oh, no! I missed my Biker Chick? She only does that once a month and it's the best part!"

Severus gaped at his student. _'Clearly,'_ he decided, _'she was insane and needed to be reported to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. Once she got her own body back that was.'_

"Are you completely deranged, Miss Granger?" he asked sharply.

"What? No, no, of course not, Severus," she sputtered, "some of us just like it, well, a bit rough. No offense, but until today I would have thought you were one of them."

"Miss Granger," he said, decidedly put-out, "just because in my youth I stupidly followed a megalomaniac does not mean I enjoy sadistic sex!"

Hermione's lips twitched as she suppressed the urge to giggle. _'My, my, wouldn't people laugh if people heard this conversation. That is, of course, if people knew who was who. The brainy-know-it-all loves it rough and the greasy-git of a potions master whom everyone thought was a cruel bastard is a softy!'_ She could help letting one snigger escape.

Severus frowned at her.

Hermione groaned. "Okay, well, if it looks like I honestly have too much to do, Minerva will ease up. That and pretty soon she'd have had to let up on you anyway."

Severus looked confused but Hermione chose not to enlighten him.

"Come the next class, I'll announce that you will be my new apprentice and that you will have to come down here every day to help me."

Severus's relief was nearly tangible. "Mr. Malfoy will be rather horrified," said Severus. "He's sure that if I were to take an apprentice, which, if I were myself, I assure you I would _not_, that I would take him. Which, again, I assure you I would _not_."

Hermione raised a brow.

"It's not that his potion work is bad, Hermione, but he doesn't put any feeling into it so the potions lack strength."

"Probably because he's too busy obliterating everyone else's work," muttered Hermione.

"Yes, I was wondering about that unseemly little display of yours in the Great Hall," he said with a snort. "When it was all over you shot quite a dirty look at Mr. Malfoy."

"I'm sure Harry filled you in on the potion we brewed in class that day. I tested Malfoy's. It would appear he added something to it which had a delayed _lust_ factor in it, made to reveal existing feelings."

Severus scowled. "I hope that brat doesn't think I harbor some deep rooted feelings for him. Ickle monster, that one," he said with disgust. "Not to mention the fact that he's my _godson_."

Hermione sniffed. "Lucky you."

She stared at Severus appraisingly. He twitched. It was far too reminiscent of the look Minerva had given him. "Go back to your room, take a nice long bath and get some sleep, Severus. And don't miss my class again."

'_Impertinent little chit!'_ thought Severus, although her suggestion was in fact a good one. He nodded at her and swept out of the room to make his way back to the Head Girl's chambers. Much to his relief, he did not encounter anyone in the halls.


	7. Want to see my wand?

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

_  
Author's Note:_

_We decided to speed things up a little bit by skipping a few days here and there; no need to discuss every single day._

_Yes, Severus is a smart man and he would, in theory, understand what is happening with Hermione's body, but he has no practical experience for the upcoming situation to handle it correctly._

_Love MysticSlave

* * *

_

The days passed slowly; far too slowly as far as Severus and Hermione were concerned, considering their predicament. They gradually became used to the idiosyncrasies of each other and Severus, under the guise of being under apprentice to the Potions Master – something that had not gone over well with Malfoy – was gradually losing his abject horror at his fate at the hands of Professor McGonagall a few weeks back. Though she had been quite disappointed at the loss of her evening entertainment, she was quite proud that her favourite student had managed to convince, Merlin only knows how, the dour Potions Master into accepting her apprenticeship.

Severus was sitting at his usual place in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table, coffee in one hand, fork in the other, staring grumpily at his breakfast. He couldn't understand why he didn't want to eat this morning.

Harry suddenly sat down next to him. "Mione, are you okay?"

He just shook his head. Harry leaned closer and put a gentle hand on his back, rubbing in small circles. Severus was in too much pain to flinch away from the _Golden Boy's_ touch. _'Merlin that feels good_,_'_ he thought despairingly. Harry handed him a large bar of Honeyduke's Chocolate. "Here, I know you'll need this by the end of the day. I picked it up for you the last time I was in Hogsmeade."

Severus couldn't figure out why Harry thought he would need chocolate, but he'd never turn a bar of it down. He mumbled his thanks and slipped it into his pocket.

His throat itched a bit and he coughed to clear it. He started in surprise. What had that been? He coughed again, tentatively. There it was . . . a feeling of detachment and then a warm trickling down his left leg. _'What in the world?'_ He slipped a hand under the table, as if to scratch his knee, and swiped at the fluid on his leg. Discretely he brought his fingers back up to his lap to examine the evidence. _'Merlin, I'm bleeding! What in tarnation am I bleeding for?'_

"I'm dying!"

Harry looked down at his hand and shuddering a bit, handed him a napkin. He took it dumbly. _'Crikey, did I say that out loud?'_

"Came sooner than you thought, huh, Hermione? At least you've got your long robes on. Hurry back up and change before class; you've got more than enough time."

He looked at his now reddish napkin, nodded briefly to Harry, and made his escape, praying no one else had noticed.

Harry carefully took the napkin and wrapped it up in another one so that no one would be the wiser. _'Merlin am I glad guys don't have to deal with that,'_ he thought, having no idea how ironic that was at the moment.

* * *

Back in his rooms, he stripped off his robes, draping them carelessly over his chair, before removing the lower half of his clothes. It was quite messy. He sighed and took everything off, deciding that a quick bath was in order. 

He sighed. The warm water felt wonderful on his back. He ached terribly as if he'd been hit by a minor bout of _crucio_.

He sank more deeply into the tub as his body relaxed. Quite a bit later, he sat up, scrubbed himself clean, and clambered out of the tub, his lips curling in disdain as the pinkish water swirled down the drain. He wondered if Hermione had merely forgotten to inform him that her cycle was approaching or if the impudent little chit had purposely left out this helpful bit of information.

Severus searched high and low through Hermione's toiletries but could not find anything that appeared useful for his current state of affairs. Sighing, he bundled a bit of toilet paper together and made due with that after dressing in fresh clothes. He shoved his books, wand, parchment, and homework into his knapsack, and after a moment, added the candy bar as well. He sank down onto the edge of his bed with a sigh as new spasms of pain wracked through his body. _He_ might be used to enduring terrible cruelty, but Hermione's body was not. Suddenly his head snapped up. What time was it? "Bloody hell! I'm going to be late for Potions! Hermione is going to kill me!" The irony of the situation was not lost on him; he did not, however find it amusing. He gathered up his bag and raced for the dungeons.

He raced through the halls, heedless of the rules, praying he wouldn't encounter Filch, and skidded breathlessly to a stop in front of his classroom. The door was already closed. He swore silently to himself and pulled the door slowly open. He tried to slip into his seat without arising any undue attention from the Slytherins or Hermione herself, but alas, he had no such luck.

Hermione was instantly at his desk, long fingers splayed on either side of him with palms pressed firmly against the desk. "You're _late_, Miss Granger," she hissed at him, "you should be more careful or you'll find yourself _sans apprenticeship_ and you'll have to find something else to occupy your evenings with. Perhaps _detention_ with your Head of House would be appropriate?"

He shrank down visibly into himself, noticing Harry shooting nasty glances at the professor, in his stead. He had to admit that Hermione was doing a beyond admirable job at keeping up his appearance. He still didn't like being on the receiving end of it, however.

"Leave her alone, Professor Snape," spat Harry, "she doesn't feel well."

"Unless Miss Granger is unconscious or dead, Mr. Potter, you'll find that _sick_ doesn't hold much significance with me."

Hermione turned and strode back to her desk. "Oh, and Mr. Potter?" she intoned with her back to the class, "Ten points from Gryffindor for your unasked for input."

At the end of class, Severus stayed after to talk with Hermione. He had to reassure Harry that he would be fine and deftly shooed him out the door. Neither of them would ever live it down if anyone heard the forthcoming discussion.

When the last student had exited the room, Severus quickly shut the door, whipped out his wand and cast a strong locking and silencing charm on it.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Something bothering you, Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione, there is something bothering me. Did you just forget to tell me you were close to your menses or was it an intentional lapse in your memory?"

Hermione stifled her urge to snicker, schooling her face into a blank mask; something this body was quite adept at, even if the person inhabiting it wasn't.

"I'm so sorry, Severus!" she exclaimed, hoping she sounded convincing, "With all the distraction of learning how to function as you, it totally slipped my mind. I usually don't think about it because my body warns me when it's coming; but obviously I didn't get the warnings this time . . . you did."

Severus scowled. "Breakfast was most humiliating, Miss Granger," he intoned, his voice clipped and precise. "I leaked blood down my leg, Harry noticed and gave me suggestions while he rubbed my back and offered me chocolate!"

Hermione smiled. "Harry always was more understanding than the other boys. Ron freaks out if he even suspects and calls me gross."

'_Well, it is rather gross; at least the feeling was when the excruciating pain was absent,'_ thought Severus, _'but it's not like it's something she can help,'_ he acknowledged. "Well, I always knew that Weas – Ron wasn't as sophisticated as he might be."

Hermione couldn't decide if she was amused or not and chose to make no remarks.

"Surely you didn't stay after class to tell me how embarrassed you were, did you, Severus?"

"No, of course not, you silly girl! I've never had to deal with this; your beloved helps all the girls when they reach this stage in life. I don't know what to do and I certainly can't ask Minerva! Not to mention the agonizing pain I am in, which your body is not adequately capable of handling."

"Wasn't there a box of tampons available? I was sure I had some left."

"Tampons?"

Hermione sighed. She conjured the box from her room and showed it to Severus. Then she explained what to do with them, how often to change them, and what could happen if you didn't. Severus paled and sat down abruptly. His head dropped to the desk in front of him.

Hermione smirked. This was hilarious. She was also quite relieved to be blessed with the luck of skipping at least one of her cycles without having to be pregnant to achieve it.

While Severus regained his bearings, Hermione slipped into the storeroom and brought out several vials of a pain draught which she handed to Severus.

He thanked her, somewhat diffidently, and slipped out of the room; box of tampons hidden carefully in his robes along with the vials.

* * *

Two days later, Hermione's cycle fully kicked in. _'I will never, ever say that women cannot handle pain like men can. Or at least not Hermione, in any case!'_ He was utterly miserable. One evening in despair, he slipped down to the dungeons to refill his pain draught vials which he had used with alarming speed. 

"Hermione!"

She whipped around. "Yes?" she drawled.

"There's . . . there's something wrong with your body! It's _hemorrhaging!_"

Hermione winced. "I suppose you wouldn't be very happy if I said I forget to tell you about that too?"

Severus simply glared at her.

"I know it is . . . uncomfortable, but it is completely natural for my body to need 5-6 super plus tampons a day in the start of the cycle. It will peter down and become more normal. Be sure you eat a lot of red meat, though, or you'll get anemic."

'_No, he would never underestimate Hermione's tolerance for pain again,'_ Severus thought, once again humiliated over the discussion, even though he had honestly thought something was wrong or that he had done something that had caused her body to bleed to excessively. He was relieved to find that wasn't the case, but was unable to find the words to say so. Hermione could see the relief on her face, however, and it was enough.

* * *

The weeks passed. Hermione and Severus were now so set into their new lives that at times both felt that they had always been this way. Hermione had discovered, a bit to her embarrassment, that there was some joy in being snarky and getting away with it because it was expected of you. She wondered if Severus was lonely though, and then she wondered why she cared. If she looked into her heart, though, she would admit that she had come to consider the man a friend and that she didn't like to think of him as being alone. 

She had gradually adapted to having a male body. That had taken longer than anything else in this peculiar charade. She had learned to relieve herself in correct fashion, and was able to wash without feeling appalled. She had become proficient at the _erectus redeo _charm; though it was beginning to leave her feeling drained and hollow. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be used quite so often, but a cold shower wasn't always an option, and, well . . . could she even follow through on her other _choice_?

* * *

That evening found 'Severus' seated next to Minerva. The Deputy Headmistress was prattling on about her Gryffindors, especially her prize student, and just how was she doing in her apprentice and did it really have to take place _every_ night? 

Hermione sighed. She was sure that Severus would have tuned out most of what Minerva had said, so she snubbed the woman until mention of the apprenticeship came up.

"Surely, Minerva," she drawled, "you are aware of how _uninterested_ I am in taking a student apprentice, particularly one from any other house but Slytherin." This a statement, not a question, and she continued on before Minerva could retort. "We are working on some very powerful potions and since she is insistent on going on to become a Potions Mistress, I had little choice but to accept her. She needs to work every night for an unknown amount of time until we get the results I am looking for," she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Minerva sighed. "As you see fit, Severus," she said a bit despondently, and Hermione instantly felt repentant for her harsh tones, but knew better than to let them show on her face, "I just hate to see her fall behind in the special training I was giving her."

"And just what might that be, Minerva?"

"She's learning the transformations and charm necessary to be an animagus, Severus." She eyed him for a moment before continuing in a much softer voice. "Something I believe you quite understand the difficulty of if done on one's own."

Hermione scowled at her. Between Minerva and Albus, there was little probability of anyone keeping a secret within these hallowed wards.

Minerva winked, knowing she was correct in assuming that Severus had taught himself; it was the wink that was Hermione's undoing. She took a sudden deep breath, catching her lover's scent so strongly she could nearly taste her. The wink, meant to be friendly between colleagues, reminded her of the nights of sweet teasing in Minerva's chambers. She was instantly aroused and was filled with longing for a release that her now standard charm couldn't bring.

With great effort, she waited for the Great Hall to empty and then made her way quickly back to her private chambers where she quickly stripped down, drew back the covers, and slipped into bed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, steeled herself, and reached blindly towards her lower torso. She'd read that women had more nerve endings in their . . . well, then men did in that area, but when her hand barely brushed her arousal, that thought and any others that didn't relate specifically to _how good_ _it felt_, left her head faster than _obliviate_ works.

Self-pleasurement was nothing new to Hermione; just the path to success differed this time around. But seeing as this body reacted to what came across as flirting from Minerva, she felt that thoughts of the lovely Deputy Headmistress would suffice to fulfill her deep feeling of arousal and longing that had plighted her these many weeks.

Her body's long suffering torment under the erection reduction charm, which removed the embarrassing tent but left a hollow, empty feeling, and certainly no pleasure, coupled with however long the professor had sustained his celibacy, quickened Hermione's experimentation. She began to moan and writhe with ecstasy, thanking Merlin that the professor had extraordinarily strong silencing charms on his chambers.

She was breathing faster and felt quite flushed, her hair was matted to her head, and she brushed it out of her face, tucking it behind her ears, too intent, now, on what she was doing, to seek out a spell in her mind that would simply hold her hair in place.

Hermione sat up slightly, the urge great upon her. She hissed with pleasure, simultaneously gasping for breath, moaning Minerva's name over and over, her hand still wrapped around herself and she felt it, slowly, ever so slowly, soften and lay still against her thigh.

As the feeling ebbed, and realization dawned, Hermione buried her blushing face in her hands, feeling utterly mortified, exceedingly glad that no one could see her, as she tried to ignore the little voice in the back of her head that whispered muzzily _'but it wasn't so bad, Hermione, now was it?' _She shook her head, not knowing if she wanted to answer that thought, not knowing what to do now that she had reached such a point while inhabiting her professor's body, and unsure what to do now that it had passed. Her body knew, however, and she soon drifted off into an even, relaxed slumber.

Hermione woke up a short time later feeling very refreshed and a bit embarrassed. Particularly when she realized she was having difficulties detaching herself from her sheets. A quick cleansing charm rectified the matter and she padded her way into the shower where she examined her body carefully for the first time.

She wondered if this counted as seducing a professor and then decided it didn't really matter since she'd been seduced by one herself, and Merlin only knows what Severus had been forced to do in her body.

Deciding she could forego one evening of patrolling, she slid back into her still warm sheets and drifted off.

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	8. And Call Off Christmas!

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

By MysticSlave

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

_Author's Note:_

_Can you find the Rickmanisms? _

_**The song lyrics in this chapter are public domain, thus there is no copyright infringement. The author has checked into this.**_

_Love, MysticSlave_

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**Chapter Eight: "And Call Off Christmas . . . "**

'_It was truly amazing,'_ thought Severus, _'that it was now December, nearly Christmas, and no one had discovered that Hermione had taken up residence in his body and vice versa.'_ Severus was not one to give Christmas thanks, but he sent them sincerely to anyone who was listening that the Dark Lord hadn't summoned him. _'Merlin only knows what would happen with Hermione going in my stead.'_

As the holidays drew closer, the Headmaster summoned both Severus and Hermione to his office. "My dears, I believe the time has come to decide what we shall do with you over the holidays."

Hermione and Severus shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other, dreading what the bright twinkle in Albus's eye would mean for them.

"Hermione, you always go home for Christmas, and as there is nothing of chief importance happening over this holiday, I have no reason to keep you here. Therefore, Severus," he continued, directing his comments at the inexplicably frightened professor, "you shall stay with Mr. and Mrs. Granger for Christmas and New Year's, and you Hermione," will stay here.

Hermione gaped at him. Severus did not appreciate the look on his features, but was too flabbergasted to comment.

"Albus," he hissed after a bit, "you cannot be serious! It is one thing to fool a bunch of mindless children, but you bloody well cannot expect me to fool Hermione's parents over all of the winter holidays! And what if I get summoned?"

The Headmaster's eyes grew even brighter. "I've already arranged it so that the Granger fireplace is connected to the Floo Network; specifically my fire place and your fire place, Severus. If a call should come, you can pop back over here and take care of things. You're both very clever, I'm sure you will have no problems dealing with this," Albus said confidently.

"Have you gone _completely insane?_" hissed Severus, now frantic with worry, past caring if the body he was living in these days gave away his anxiety. _'Spend Christmas with her parents? He's completely off his rocker! I'll never be able to fool people who've known her all her life! And doesn't that blasted twinkle ever leave his eyes?'_

Although his . . . tantrum was nearly all held inside his mind, said emotions flashed through his eyes like a raging storm; something which did nothing to quell the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes. It had been too long since Albus had seen the dear boy so ruffled.

Hermione watched the scene unfold in front of her in a much calmer manner, even if inside she too was seething; though with more worry and less anger than Severus. She could handle being at Hogwarts over the holidays; even if it meant she wouldn't get to see her parents anytime soon. Perhaps she could make some headway in rectifying their situation. Harry had gained some confidence in potions; perhaps it was time, after the holidays that is, to let the class start the assignment that had caused this mess over again. Not that she expected it to be useful for their current predicament, but the potions were all useful, and some of them were needed by Madam Pomfrey. _'That's settled then,'_ she thought to herself, quite satisfied with her penchant for creating lesson plans. After much grumbling, Severus had decided that hers would suffice and stopped butting in, as long as she made sure that she covered everything that was expected for seventh year students, she could, he had decided wearily, add in whatever other potion lessons she deemed suitable.

Hermione recoiled in her seat when she felt someone poke her until she realized it was merely Severus trying to get her attention.

"Yes?" she drawled. _'Oh, how she loved this voice. It was like deep rich chocolate of the finest source, soft as velvet and at times, hard as steel, but always sexy.' _She realized Severus was staring at her, eyebrow quirked, her own face set in an odd resemblance of his own. She tamped down her thoughts. _'Mustn't let him catch me wool-gathering again,'_ she thought fervently. She hoped he wouldn't take it upon himself to see if he was still a superb Occlumens while in her body; it simply wouldn't do to have the man find out she had suddenly decided he was desirable.

"Well? Have you nothing to say about our latest predicament, Miss Granger?"

She raised an eyebrow at his return to _Miss Granger_. She shrugged with a glance at the Headmaster. "Don't worry, Severus," she cooed in a saccharinely sweet voice, quite out of place coming from the harsh professor, "I can teach you everything you need to know. You'll do _just fine_." She followed her speech up by patting him comfortingly on the hand; a hand which was quickly jerked away from her touch.

The Headmaster discretely covered his mouth to hide his smile, but the ever-present damnable twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

"You see, my dear boy, you'll be well prepared, and you know you could use a vacation from Hogwarts; I've been telling you that for years."

Severus sighed. This did _not_ constitute as a vacation as far as he was concerned.

Hermione took the still silently protesting Severus with her down to the dungeons to tell him about her parents. And about what things he should purchase as gifts; not only for her parents but for Ron and Harry as well. Wasn't that rich. Severus buying gifts for _The Boy Who Lived and his best mate_.

After a long and rather tedious discussion with Severus about Hermione's parents, they shifted towards gift purchasing when he had a thought.

"Do you parents know about your . . . relationship with Minerva?"

"Heavens no! They don't even know that I fancy birds . . . o'er blokes!"

'_O'er but not instead of? Interesting,'_ thought Severus, though he didn't call her on it. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know what had brought on that bit of change.

"If they ask, which I doubt they will, just tell them you're too busy with your studies to even think of dating, and that should suffice. They know that answer by rote now as it's the only answer I've ever given them to that particular question," explained Hermione in a tone that clearly said this line of conversation was over.

Severus was only too glad to move on to the next topic . . . until he realized just who he would be purchasing gifts for and began sulking again.

Hermione pulled a face. "Oh, grow up, Severus," she growled, making him even more irritable.

"Honestly, it isn't that bad. I will give you a list and some galleons, and you will go and purchase said gifts. It will look right odd if you don't show up with presents. You wouldn't want to blow this whole thing out of the water this late in the game now, would you?"

"No," he seethed, "I wouldn't, as much as I would love to see the expressions on everyone's face when they realized they'd been had . . . quite literally in Minerva's place by _'the great bat and greasy git of a potions professor,'_".

"It's good to see you still have your snark," Hermione commented dryly.

"My _what_?"

"Your snark. Now let us get down to business; you don't have many shopping days left, you know."

Severus sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Later that afternoon, Severus trudged down to Hogsmeade to purchase gifts for Hermione's parents, Ron, Harry, and Minerva. He'd rather hug Harry than purchase Minerva's gift. _'Merlin save me,'_ he thought wearily. At least being in seventh year meant that he could go down by himself; he couldn't bear purchasing such a gift in front of anyone else. How in the world Hermione had discovered the shop in the first place was a mystery he did not care to unravel; sometimes you were better off not knowing. He had no desire to sate his curiosity on this particular riddle. Hermione was an enigma; one he could honestly admit to himself that he was beginning to like. He didn't bait her nearly as often as was his wont, he had actually told her to keep her money; that has his Christmas gift to her he would purchase the gifts with his own money. It was interesting to see the look of shock on his own face; Severus was rarely speechless, and the few times he had been taken aback, had schooled his features into a void of non-caring so that no one was the wiser.

'_Bloody hell,'_ he thought crossly, _' just my luck that the one woman I would find attractive after all these years is in love with the Deputy Headmistress, my student, and living in my body! It couldn't possibly get any worse!'_

Several weeks would pass before Severus found out just how wrong he was.

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Before they knew it, the holidays were upon them, and Severus was leaving, full of trepidation, for his first ride in years on the Hogwarts Express with a bunch of ruddy children, his bag full of parcels that would be owled to their wizard recipients; others placed under the tree for his _parents_. _'At least,'_ he thought gratefully, _'I will not be around when Minerva opens her gift. That shop was something else . . . most of which I could at the least identify a purpose for, but what Hermione thinks Minerva would want with a thick strand of plastic beads is beyond even my intellect. Though,'_ he mused further, _'intellect and items from such a shop probably do not even belong in the same sentence.'_

Severus suffered the long trip to the Kings Cross station with minimal displayed aggravation. Hermione's face was not one that could easily hide emotion, but he had learned some tricks to make things less obvious, and he had learned quickly to identify the forewarning signs of her cycles so that he could be prepared. As he was expecting the next one over the holidays, he had taken several vials from his stores of blood-replenishing draught, shrunk and hidden them in his trunk. _'At least I don't have to ride with Harry since he's staying at Hogwarts for the holidays; not that Seamus is much better . . . complete dolt in Potions.'_

"I bet you're exctd tobe goiome, huh, 'Mione?" asked Ron around a mouthful of chocolate frog.

"_Ron!_" hissed Seamus, a disgusted look on his face, "don't talk with your mouth full!"

Severus was surprised to discover that Seamus had manners, or at least gave the appearance of having them. Gryffindors so rarely did.

Ron swallowed and scowled at his friend. "I don't remember you complaining about that last n-" a quick elbowing from Seamus brought Ron up short. He made no attempt to neither finish his thought nor come up with a feasible replacement to where he had been going, but he flushed as red as his hair.

Severus could only fill in _night_ as the missing word, but it made no sense to him why Seamus would not want Ron talking about it. _'Boys,'_ thought Severus in disgust. _'Wait. I did **not** just think like Hermione would. I am not turning into Miss Granger. I am **not!** Ruddy children. Much better.'_

Between Severus' horror at _thinking like a girl_ and Ron and Seamus' embarrassment, the rest of the ride passed in an uncomfortable silence. Severus drew out a book and commenced reading, completely blocking out Ron and Seamus, something which was probably for the better as far as his mental health was concerned, though in the long run, it may have saved him some trouble. Ignorance is not always bliss.

Upon exiting the train, Severus glanced about covertly, searching for the pleasant-looking couple in the Muggle photograph that Hermione had in her room.

Not seeing them right away, Severus went to retrieve the rest of his luggage, and bid farewell to Ron and Seamus, neither of which, thankfully, tried to hug him.

He had just leaned down to pick up his trunk when strong arms surrounded him from the back. Startled, he yelped, not liking the high pitched sound which was his voice now.

"Dear, you scared her! How's my Hermione?" asked a woman who Severus realized was Hermione's mother.

"Just fine, Mum. How are you and Dad doing?"

His . . . parents smiled lovingly at him and he thought he might be ill from the sentimentality of it all.

Mr. Granger picked up his daughter's trunk, and his wife slipped an arm around Hermione's waist so that they would walk out side by side to the car.

Hermione, it turned out, came from a very nice neighborhood and a lovely home. It was, not surprisingly, chock full of books. Every room held shelves of them. The colours of the house were muted and pleasant, lots of cream with neat trim for the walls, photographs here and there of her parents, Hermione with her parents, Hermione with Crookshanks looking peevish about having his photo taken.

Speaking of Crookshanks, Severus realized he was being asked about the creature.

"He's staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, Mum," he explained. "He doesn't like the motion of the train, and Professor McGonagall promised to take good care of him."

His . . . mother nodded. "It just seems odd to see you without him these days since you've had him so long."

Severus shrugged. "I know, but it's better for him, and there are other cats in the castle so he'll be happy."

Mrs. Granger shrugged. "Whatever you think is best, sweetie. Why don't you take your things upstairs and unpack, and I'll fix you a snack and a nice cup of tea."

"I'd like that," he said simply.

Severus collected his belongings and trudged up the stairs. There were three doors upstairs which Severus surreptitiously peeked into until he had located the bathroom and Hermione's room. After carefully putting his things away, he laid down on Hermione's bed for a few moments of relaxation. _'I can live with this, I think,'_ he mused. _'And so far so good. Thank Merlin Albus did not insist that I remain at Hogwarts, now that I think about it. I am quite certain that Minerva would have found a way to monopolize my evenings and I just could not deal with that. I know I would have given us away.'_

He heard Hermione's mother call out that the snack was ready, so he stretched gracefully, and slipped off of the bed and headed back downstairs.

As the days came and went, Severus, who with the exception of chocolate, had never considered himself to have much of a sweet tooth, was desperately craving sugar; a commodity which did not appear to exist in the Granger household.

Quicker than he thought, Christmas Eve was upon them, and Severus was escorted down the street by Hermione's parents to join a group of neighbors for caroling. Hermione's voice was sweet and pure in song and he decided he quite liked it. _'She would sound rather nice in harmony with my own tenor. Not that I ever sing anymore; Albus is probably the only person that is aware that it is something I enjoy. This is one Muggle custom that would not be so bad to adopt at Hogwarts . . . though I suppose we would have to do it before the students left for the holidays . . . perhaps the students that remain would enjoy caroling through town for the Hogsmeade residents.'_ He promised himself that he would discuss the possibilities with Albus when he was back at school.

Severus had not had a joyous childhood, and usually scorned Christmas, as he had no pleasant memories to associate with it. Until now. He realized he was truly enjoying himself.

Despite the coldness of the air and the frigidness of the wind which brought a deep rosy tint to Hermione's face, Severus smiled as he lifted his voice with his fellow carolers in song.

_The first nowell the Angel did say_

_Was to three poor shepherds in fields as they lay._

_In fields where they lay keeping their sheep,_

_In a cold winter's night that was so deep._

_Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell._

_Born is the King of Israel._

Soon the song drew to a close, and Severus, still as perceptive as he would have been in his own body, felt someone move into his personal space. He held himself still, not wanting to jump and alarm anyone; he didn't sense anything malicious. The body moved closer and closer until he could feel warm breath on his ear. A deep baritone voice whispered, "Hullo, Hermione, I've missed you."

Severus racked his brain but could not place any memories of Hermione mentioning a love interest at home; besides, the voice was too deep to be a woman. Not even Madam Hooch's voice was that deep.

Slowly, he turned to face a thin boy with impossibly dark eyes and hair, long nose and alabaster skin. He was alarmed to realize he was looking at a young version of himself. Did his family have some squib relative he was unaware of?

"Yes?" he muttered? Reverting to his usual taciturn manner when faced with this unexpected boy.

"Oh, come now, Hermione," the boy purred, his voice as silky as Snape's own velvety tenor, "you weren't so shy last I saw you."

Severus stepped back in alarm. _'But Hermione told me she was gay!'_ he thought to himself. _'What the hell is he blathering on about?'_

Long fingers brushed his curls aside and the boy smiled. _'A rather nice smile_," thought Severus mindlessly, in shock from the soft touch. _'Blast, Hermione, if this is someone I'm supposed to know, I'm going to look mighty foolish. You'd think you'd remember you had an overly-friendly neighbor boy waiting for you – especially if said boy looked just like your professor. . . . Oh, dear Merlin, does that mean that perhaps Hermione secretly had a crush on me and fell for Minerva's charms because I unknowingly turned her away? Not that I would have bedded a student, but . . . in retrospect it would make things a lot easier for me right now!'_

Severus was saved from his embarrassment when Hermione's mother turned to see what had captured her daughter's attention.

"Well hello, Sage, I was wondering if we'd see you tonight," she said pleasantly.

She turned to her daughter. "Hermione, you remember Sage Siyamak, don't you? We rarely see him, but he always seems to come around when you're home from school."

She winked at her daughter.

Severus was mortified. He raised an eyebrow. "How could I forget?"

"Well," Severus drawled, trying to find a way out of this situation, "it was very nice seeing you again." He turned to Mrs. Granger. "Can we go home now? I'm rather chilly."

Sage stepped forward. "I would be happy to take her home, Ma'am. I remember where you live."

Mrs. Granger smiled. Hermione needed to get out and date; she would need more comfort in life than one could simply get from books. She smiled widely at the young man. "Of course you may, Sage. You two have fun!" Mr. and Mrs. Granger turned, arm in arm, to walk back down the street with the remaining carolers. Severus, in shock, simply stood there with his mouth agape, looking much the part of the codfish he always accused his dunderhead students of imitating. Whatever was he to do now?

Sage smiled in return. "You've grown even more beautiful than when I saw you this summer, my dear." He took Severus' hand, placed it in the crook of his arm, and gestured after the retreating adults. "Shall we?"

The stroll back to Hermione's house seemed to take twice as long when walking with Sage; even without the numerous stops for caroling. He could swear the distance had doubled . . . or tripled even . . . in length.

Thankfully, Sage seemed content to simply walk arm in arm with whom he believed to be Hermione, for Severus' mind was in too much turmoil to provide for intelligent conversation.

When they reached the door to Hermione's house, he started at the predatory look on Sage's face; it was one he was used to being on his own features. The closer Sage leaned in, the further Severus leaned back, until his back was against the door. At the last moment, he turned his face sideways so that Sage's lips brushed his cheek. That rich voice murmured in his ear. "Shall we say . . . the Tea House on Boxing Day, 4pm?

"She would be delighted!" the Muggle version of Albus Dumbledore called from the second story window.

'_Meddling Mother!'_

"Wonderful, I shall come and pick you up at 3:30."

'_Dammit,'_ thought Severus. _'Now I cannot even use the excuse of –I could not find the place!–'_

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When he finally made it to his room, he flung himself on his bed, a hand over his eyes. _'Hermione Granger led a dangerous life. He recognized the . . . Tea House . . . for what it really was. ' _Sitting back up, he penned a quick note to Hermione -

_**Who is Sage!**_

every word underlined, and sent it post-haste. He didn't care that there was a snow storm in the making; that owl was going!

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_End Author's Note:_

_The First Nowell - Words Music: Traditional English carol of the 16th or 17th century, but possibly dating from as early as the 13th Century. Its original spelling was nowell. Scholars believe the word to actually stand for the phrase"Now all is well." Some people think that the unknown author meant that God was saying now all is well since Christ was born._ _If you're not familiar with the song, please visit my webpage (accessible through my profile) to hear a clip of your lovely and talented MysticSong1978 singing the bit from this story. Visit my profile, and then my website. There's a link in the middle of the first page that says 'Mystic's Art, etc' - go there for eFiction art and extras!  
_

_Please do not leave comments telling me my spelling of Nowell is incorrect._


	9. Parsley, Sage, Rosmerta and Time

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

By MysticSlave

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

_Author's Note:_

_Can you find the Rickmanisms? Some came from films, some came from interviews! In your review, be sure to include the quote, the source, and if it's a film, who was Rickman portraying?  
_

_Love, MysticSong1978 Slave4Severus_  
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**Chapter Nine: Parsley, _Sage_, Rosmerta and Time**

Back at Hogwarts, Hermione was enjoying one of the most peaceful holidays she had had in a long time. No parents to bug her, no dunderhead students blowing things up or generally making a mess of her classroom. She had quickly learned why Severus was always so frustrated in class and why he was more often than not such a git; she had found great stress relief in taking out her aggravations on the students and her unknowing classmates. Except for her one casting of _Petrificus Totalus_ on Neville in their first year, she had always gone out of her way to treat the poor boy kindly, no matter how foolish he sometimes was. But as he expected nothing but cruelty from Severus, she could take out her long held annoyance over his complete ineptitude in Potions without him being the wiser.

She wondered idly how Severus was getting along with her parents and if he had enjoyed, here she snickered, going caroling. She hoped he would at least pretend to sing, perhaps at least vocalize the notes, if he did not know the words and that he would not inadvertently substitute _Merlin_ in for the many references in Muggle songs to Jesus Christ. That would startle even her parents and her neighbors were completely unaware; they simply believed that Hermione was off at a selective preparatory school for most of the year and never questioned it.

Hermione had been pleasantly surprised at Severus' offer to purchase her gifts with his own money as his gift to her. After he was off on the Hogwarts Express – _'bet that was a fun trip'_ – she set off to Hogsmeade to purchase gifts for this unexpected friend. Severus' rooms were quite comfortable to stay in, much nicer than her Head Girl room, and made even better by the plethora of books the man owned. His personal collection easily rivalled the school's library selection of books on Potions and DADA. She imagined that a couple nice and preferably hard-to-find books would make quite the splendid gift and perhaps help to smooth over any trouble from his holiday in the Muggle world when he returned to the castle with the other students.

She strolled through Hogsmeade, enjoying her time away from the Castle and Albus' meddling ways; but careful to keep her face carefully schooled in Severus' usual stoic mask.

A good thing too, for she ran into Harry in the main street of town, evidently doing his Christmas shopping a bit late; no doubt having waited until prying eyes left the vicinity. Hermione slid into the shadows of a cross street and watched Harry until he slipped inside Madam Malkin's. She supposed she'd find out later from Severus why Harry was buying robes in the middle of the year; she couldn't recall him having had any accidents that would have made his set unrepairable even through the means of magic.

The coast now clear, she strode quickly down the street and into the back room of Flourish and Blotts. The room reserved for the hard-to-find or not-quite-bad-enough to be sold in Knockturn Alley. She delighted in her search through the section displaying ancient but still vibrantly coloured books on a wide variety of topics and had to smile at a number of the titles and author names. Finally selecting two, she moved back into the front of the store to pay and then made her way back to Hogwarts. She couldn't wait to see what Severus thought of them.

Albus was determined to have Hermione interact as much as possible with the other professors, so she fell into the pattern of eating breakfast and lunch in her chambers and joining the professors and the students that had stayed for the evening meal.

The night before Christmas brought a fierce storm to the area, with gale-force winds and heavy snow. Hermione was sitting comfortably in front of her fire, reading Severus' latest copy of Potions_Today_. She had just started an article titled _Highly Toxic Potion Fumes to Avoid_ by Carson O. Gin when a frantic tapping started at her door. She sighed and waved her wand at the door to lower the wards and open the door. The bedraggled owl she was allowed to keep over the holidays since she did not own a post owl flew into the room and landed heavily on the rug in front of the fire, wings nearly frozen solid, shivering and dripping wet from snow.

She cast a warming charm on the owl which hooted gratefully at her. When the owl could move again, it hopped over to her and stuck out its leg. Hermione deftly removed the letter, and conjured both food and water for the owl, not sure it would make it as far as the owlery in its current state. Settling back down in her chair, she took a sip of her Firewhiskey. She had found the bottle in one of the many cupboards in his chambers and sheepishly realized she was on her third glass. Hermione thought perhaps she should visit Rosmerta before break ended so that she could restock Severus' stores. He need never know. She took another sip and flicked open the letter that Severus had sent her.

**_Who is Sage!_**

Hermione's body convulsed for a moment as she simultaneously inhaled and spit out her mouthful of fine Ogden's Firewhiskey.

"Shit!"

'_I forgot all about Sage Siyamak. I hope he doesn't think I left out details about him on purpose. . . . I hope he doesn't realize Sage looks like he's probably related to the Snape family; may well be for all I know. . . . Wonder if he thinks I was hiding him because they look so much a like and now he'll think I have a crush on him and . . . Merlin, there is simply no end to the mess that may result in this. Especially if Mum forces 'me' out on a date as she is wont to do. Poor Severus. Gawd, I hope Sage doesn't choose our regular spot.'_

She rubbed her forehead in seeming agony. The owl was watching her with wide, round eyes.

"There is no good way out of this," she informed the owl.

He blinked at her, and then shivered.

"Don't worry, I won't send you back out until the weather clears up, which will be tomorrow at the earliest, so you can get a good night sleep before heading back with whatever letter I end up writing to explain this mess. Not that any explanation will suit, I imagine."

The owl blinked again, then tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep, quite relieved that the professor wasn't going to send him back out in the blizzard that had hit so suddenly, when his usually gentle holiday-mistress had nearly forced him out the window in her haste to have an apparently upsetting letter delivered.

Hermione spelled herself clean, set her glass aside, and moved over to her desk where she took out a fresh piece of parchment, her favourite quill, and set down to write Severus a reply.

_Dear S._

_I send my sincere apologies for not informing you about Professor Siyamak. In light of my other times of forgetfulness, I would not blame you if you think I did this on purpose, but I assure it was not done intentionally. _

_He is only home on the holidays, which is part of how I deduced that he was a Professor. He is in his middle-twenties, I believe around 26 years. He teaches at Nefer Senef, similar in mind to Durmstrang, but less dark and certainly not as well known._

_No one else in my neighbourhood knows where I go to school, simply believing that I attend a private preparatory school. Sage said that he was able to sense me because of my magic and as such struck up conversation with me._

_I hope Mum didn't force you out on a date with him. I suspect from this poor owl's journey through the ongoing tempest that she probably did. Again, I send my sincerest apologies._

_He's not a bad sort, at least not as far as I am aware, but then I have been able to talk my way out of most of his invitations, only joining him for tea on a handful of occasions. _

_I do not know what he is a professor of, but my instincts lead me to believe he works either with Potions or DADA, but I may be wrong. Professor Trelawney told me I had the instinct of a brick wall, but then we must consider the source._

_You are of age for performing magic outside of school as of September 19th. I try not to do too much around my parents; they understand, but it still makes them a bit nervous. _

_Do not believe Sage's outrageous flirting for anything but what it is; flirting. He is insistent but has never achieved whatever his goal may be. If you are standoffish, you will not raise any suspicion in his mind._

_He is handsome and charming, but I am not involved with him._

_This time at Hogwarts has been rather dull; I have restocked Madam Pomfrey's medicinal draughts for the New Year. Minerva has been a bit droopy, and spent much of her time with Crookshanks in her animagus form. At first I feared that he would let something slip; even as half-kneazle, he is very smart, but he seems to sense that it would not be in my best interest – and he is quite aware that I am living in your body – to reveal such information to anyone. _

_Be prepared for a repeat of the Potions lesson that triggered our current situation and be ready to help with the Polyjuice Potion. He's pretty skilful with this particular potion, but I wouldn't let him simply work on his own._

_I look forward to your return._

_H._

She closed and sealed the letter, charming it so that only Severus or herself could open and read it.

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Severus awoke the next morning to find that the storm had died down considerably. A few gusts came through, swirling the dusty snow about the land, but the sun was out, giving light, if false warmth, to the neighborhood. He wondered idly if the owl had made it to Hogwarts or not and if Hermione would send a reply back in time. Severus stretched and peered out the window, searching in vain through the owl-free sky. Sighing, he traipsed down the hall for his morning shower, before dressing and heading downstairs to join the Grangers for Christmas morning.

"Happy Christmas, Sweetie!" called Mr. Granger, a joyous ring in his voice. Severus smiled at them, finding it hard while in their daughter's body to resist their infectious warmth, but all the while trying to forcibly deny that he was feeling happy on Christmas.

Hermione's parents plied him with hot chocolate with plump marshmallows, eggs, bacon, scones, kippers, toast with marmalade, fried tomatoes.

It was far more than he was accustomed to eating for Christmas breakfast, or, if he was honest, for any meal, but he did not wish to neither be rude nor raise suspicion, though he never would have fathomed the girl could eat so much, and dutifully set to work.

After breakfast had been cleared away, the family adjourned to the sitting room where a tastefully decorated tree sat, presents spilling out from under all sides of it. Severus was embarrassed to realize he had not yet sent out his gifts; of course, he had not expected to send an emergency owl post to Hermione either. Speaking of which, was she ever going to send the ruddy bird back to him? He was, quite frankly, desperate, although he would never admit it.

It seemed that the Grangers had no set tradition for gift giving, and as most of the gifts were for Hermione, he was instructed to get going; the Grangers smiled indulgently at their daughter as they searched through the pile for their own gifts; ones from Hermione and ones they had for each other.

Severus sat on the floor, surrounded by parcels, trying valiantly to suppress the dumbfounded expression he was sure was on his face as he reached for the large box in front of him.

Inside he found beautiful new dress robes in a rich buttery-golden shade that went well with Hermione's skin tone and eyes. He raised a questioning look at Mrs. Granger.

"I had Molly's help," she admitted sheepishly. "She told me that Madam Malkin offered a number of varieties that we were previously unaware of and I wanted you to have something pretty."

Severus nodded, "Thank you, Mum, I love them," Severus said honestly. He sincerely hoped he would not still be trapped in Hermione's body when it came time to wear the new robes, but even he had to admit they were a lovely colour for the young woman.

Setting the robes aside, he picked up a smaller, heavy package. He parted the fancy paper, tucked the box lid aside and gasped. Molly must have helped quite a bit in Mrs. Granger's holiday shopping; he was quite sure that books like these were not available in Muggle London.

He stared at the book before carefully opening it, running his fingers over the pristine pages of a first edition copy of _The History of Potions Through the Middle Ages_.

He realized that Mrs. Granger was vying for his attention and he tore his eyes away from the book.

"I'm glad you like it, dear," a smile played on Mrs. Granger's lips.

"It is absolutely fabulous, Mum! I cannot believe you were able to find such a book! Professor Snape will be quite jealous," and that he knew to be the truth.

His . . . Mother smiled adoringly at him. "Open the rest, dear, Molly said you would quite enjoy them, especially since you said you want to pursue studies to be a Potions Mistress!"

Severus was floored. Hermione wanted to be a Potions Mistress? He wondered if perhaps they could use this time of working things out between their interesting situation to be part of an apprenticeship. He grinned, a sudden cheery foolish grin, and ripped the paper feverishly off of the next package.

Another book! _When It's Not Bubbling, It's Not For Me: A Personal Account of a Potions Master in the 12th Century_, and another! _Cauldron, Ladle and Time: Potions and Their Vital Ingredients_. Severus was going to have to ask Molly where she shopped . . . and beg Hermione to share with him. Severus was in a book-induced euphoria.

With a delight he had not felt since he was a _very_ young child, before things had soured in his family, he tore through the rest of his gifts. Soon he had a hefty stack of books in front of him:

_When a Drop Is Not Enough: The Effect of Asphodel in Potions_

_Hand Me the Vial: A 'How To' Guide on Potions_

_Stir, Bubble, Pop: What You Always Wanted to Know About the Secret Art of Potions _

_Fillet of a Fenny Snake Other Rare Ingredients and Where to Find Them_

_If It's Not Bubbling, Don't Jinx It_

_A Cauldron and His Friend: Memoirs of a Potions Master_

_Gold, Silver, and Pewter – Which One is Best? A study on cauldron density revealed_

_1001 Arabian Potions: The Turks and their Ancient Brews_

_A Potion a Day Keeps the Master at Bay: 101 Potions to Impress_

_Morpheus, Morgana, and Merlin. The Forefathers of Potions_

_Holy Water: The controversy of Muggle Religion in Potions_

_Burn, Baby, Burn: A Guide to Deadly Potions_

_Shiver, Belch, and Wheeze. The Most Common Reactions to Modern Potions – Basics for the Medi-Witch_

_Blood Lust or Blood Letting? Blood Curdling Potions_

And finally, what turned out to be a wall hanging with tasteful art, inscribed in the center with:

_If it moves its transfiguration_

_If it doesn't work its charms_

_And if it stinks its potions!_

Severus was practically drooling in joy and envy; though he could not show the latter emotion to Hermione's parents as they would not understand. A huge smile lit his entire face and before he even realized what he was doing, jumped up and hugged both of the Grangers with unforced enthusiasm.

Mr. Granger laughed in delight at his daughter's blissful state. "I know you want to just sit and pour through your new books, darling, so go ahead and take them upstairs; Mum and I will clean up."

Severus nodded, feeling a little bashful at his hugging of the Grangers, but was also enjoying being able to experience this sweet human interaction while he was . . . taking a vacation from his own foreboding self.

"Did . . . do you like your gifts?" he asked.

"Yes, dear, very much," Mrs. Granger assured him. "Go ahead, love, take your stuff upstairs."

Severus looked at the pile of books on the floor and pondered. "Mum, do you mind if I use magic to get them upstairs? I'm of age now and the ban on underage wizardry no longer applies."

The two adults looked at each other and shrugged. "As you wish."

"_Accio Hermione's wand!_"

Severus could perform wandless magic, but he was unsure if Hermione could and did not feel that in front of her parents would be the time to show off that particular skill; especially if she never mastered it; a lot depended on how strong your core was.

Wand in hand, he levitated the stack of books, draped the robes over his arm, and charmed the books to follow him to his room. On his way up the stairs, carefully out of sight of the Grangers, he waved his hand back towards the sitting room, vanishing the mounds of wrapping paper.

A cheery, "thank you sweetie!" sounded after a brief pause.

Severus giggled.

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Severus slept very well that night, waking at first light, he stretched, nearly purring from the delight of not waking up stiff and sore as he would in his own body. He smiled happily for no reason at all, just happy to be alive . . . until the calendar caught his eye and he realized it was Boxing Day and the owl had yet to return. Had it even made it to Hogwarts?

Severus wasn't much for prayer, never thanking anyone for his luck – or lack thereof for his lot in life except himself and occasionally the Headmaster when he wasn't too meddling, but now he prayed to anyone that was listening that Sage would forget.

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Sage, however, showed up right on time, and Severus, unable to find any decent way out of this unfolding situation, slipped a coat over his outfit and trudged down the stairs to meet his . . . _date_. Oh, the horror.

When Severus laid eyes on the Tea House, he knew he was in for trouble. While quite innocuous on the outside, he was well aware from his youth that there were a number of magically hidden rooms on the inside. This was a far cry from an innocent date for tea; this was a well hidden wizard house of ill repute. _'Did the insufferable know-it-all actually enjoy places like this?'_ He knew from the revelations about Minerva that there was more too Hermione than showed on the surface, but this seemed a stretch even for her.

Sage, ever the gentleman, however, ushered his date to a well lit booth and waited until he was seated before taking a seat himself. Right next to Severus.

"It is so good to see you again, Hermione," Sage purred.

'_Is this what I would sound like if I attempted to seduce someone?' _Severus mused curiously.

Severus winced and slid away from Sage ever so slightly, attempting to gain some of his personal space back.

The waiter appeared suddenly, and Sage, without asking, ordered tea for each of them. Luckily, he also took it black, though Severus thought he might actually had some sugar to his to make up for his holiday with dentists.

They sat, a bit stiffly until the tea came; Severus quickly stirred in a spoonful of sugar, and took a sip, relishing in the heat of the dark liquid and the sweetness of the sugar.

"So," Sage began, "tell me about your schooling, my dear. I have heard rumours that you wish to become a Potions Mistress. If I may, I wish to offer you a position as my apprentice."

He mistook Severus' look of horror for one of good surprise and continued in a manner reminiscent of throwing gasoline on a flame, "It _is_ quite the offer, Hermione, dear; very few get to learn from the best!" He smiled, rather arrogantly.

Severus snorted softly to himself.

"Oh, do you believe to have a better option?"

"I am already apprenticed," Severus retorted, "to a man who has been a Potions Master longer than you have been out of school."

"And who might this icon be?"

Severus was unsure if it was wise, but he would not let this half-wit sully his reputation. "Professor Severus Snape."

Whatever reaction he was expecting from Sage, a look of complete shock as the man's face drained of what little colour it possessed, was not one of them. No scathing remarks about greasy death eaters seemed forthcoming and Severus shifted uneasily. As increasingly annoyed as he was finding himself, he also was developing an intense desire to find out just who Sage was.

Severus watched Sage out of the corner of his eye, finally choosing to ignore the man and returned to sipping his tea.

He had just brought the steaming cup to his lips when he felt something slide up his thigh. He nearly poured the hot liquid into his lap in surprise. Startled, and shaking ever so slightly, he carefully set the mug down into its plate with a soft _clink_.

He could feel Sage's hand – he had finally realized what it was – move deftly upward. _'What in Merlin's name was this impudent boy thinking!'_

"I would strongly advise you to remove your hand if you wish to keep your appendages attached to your body," hissed Severus through clenched teeth, his spoon firmly in his grip, knuckles turning white, "or I will remove them; right before I'll cut your heart out with this _spoon_!"

The hand was hastily jerked back to its owners lap.

Sage was dumbfounded; Hermione had never given any indication that advances would be met with such . . . fury . . . were he to make them. He could come up with nothing witty and settled for asking, "Why a spoon, Hermione?"

Severus leveled Sage with a glare that, even on Hermione's face, was a look to be reckoned with. "Because it's dull you _**twit! **_It will hurt more!"

_Author's Note: Nefer Senef is Egyptian, roughly for 'Beautiful (or Good) Blood'_


	10. Murphy's Laws

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

By MysticSlave

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

_Author's Note:_

_Keep an eye out for Rickmanisms!  
_

_If anyone is curious as to the absolutely bizarre title of the third book that Hermione gives Severus, drop me (MysticSong1978) an e-mail and I'll explain it to you. Bit o' a weird story behind that one._

_Love MysticSong1978 & Slave4Severus_

Chapter Ten: **Murphy's Laws . . . **

The rest of Severus' vacation passed rather quickly. He holed himself up in his room poring deftly through Hermione's new books, being very careful, as was his way, not to bring any damage or wear to them. Hermione would receive them in the same condition he had. The Grangers were indulgent of their daughter and after a few foiled attempts on Mrs. Granger's part she gave up asking after Sage. Severus sent the owl back out again with Hermione's gifts with a note explaining why they were late, although he was not entirely truthful.

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Severus hugged the Grangers and slipped through the gateway to Platform 9 ¾ where he found Ron and Seamus waiting for him. "Hullo, Hermione!" Ron called jovially. "Did you have a good break?"

"Yes, Ron, I had a lovely time. Did you two have fun?"

Seamus nodded briefly at Hermione. "Tis always a joy to be home, Hermione. I love the food at Hogwarts but I always miss me Mum's baking. There's nothing to be had like what the Irish can serve ye."

"I got your gift, Hermione," Ron announced once they were seated on the train. "It's not a problem. I hope you got everything worked out. I held on to my gift for you. I wasn't sure if the owl would get back before you left." He thrust a gift forward to Hermione. "It's a joint gift this year, from me and Harry." He grinned at her and Severus bit back his need to correct Ron's grammar.

He took the gift gingerly. "The twins did not have any part of this parcel, now did they, Ron?" he asked warily.

Ron shook his head, so Severus carefully unwrapped it. Inside he found a beautifully bound book called _When Love Speaks: Shakespeare's Love Sonnets_. Severus inhaled, "Ohhh, Ronald, thank you. I adore Shakespeare!"

Ron smiled. "We thought you would. We've been . . . well I guess you could say Seamus had a part in your gift too. He introduced us to the sonnets in the first place and Harry and I went looking for the most beautiful copy for you. You can touch your wand to each of the titles and hear it read by famous witches and wizards!"

Severus smiled and touched his wand to his favourite sonnet. A rich, velvety voice began:

_My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;_

_Coral is farmore red than her lips' red—_

Curious, he tapped the title again and the voice stopped. It was a wonderful gift. Severus had been so entranced by the book that he failed to see Seamus blush when that particular sonnet came to life.

The ride back to Hogwarts was uneventful. Severus restrained himself from listening to all the sonnets. Ron produced a handful of galleons that Harry had given him for snacks on the train since he wouldn't be there, and Ron bought a bit of everything from the snack-witch. Severus was glad to partake in the candy. He failed to see how Hermione's parents could stand to go without _some_ sugar!

"How is your apprenticeship going, Hermione?"

"Quite well, thank you."

"I wouldn't mind being in your place," Seamus said dreamily.

Severus looked at the boy in surprise. "But you were terrible in Potions. I thought you said you couldn't wait to get out of that class?"

Seamus shrugged. "I couldn't help doing poorly, I was always so distracted. I'd love the one-on-one work though."

Severus raised an eyebrow. He couldn't figure these Gryffindor boys out. Ron snickered. "Oh, right, Seamus, like you'd be able to survive with _one-on-one_ attention with Professor Snape!" He giggled further; Severus said nothing. He was too surprised to hear Ron call him _respectfully_ by his title. Something was up.

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Hagrid greeted the returning students and herded them back across the lake, where Minerva took over and ushered them into the Great Hall for the Return Feast. Severus had been at the end of the line and Minerva held him back, and then drew him into a hidden nook. He twitched when he felt her warm breath dance across his ear. "Many thanks for such a delightfully sinful and useful gift, my dear. You'll simply _have_ to get away from your apprenticeship one of these evenings so that I can demonstrate it on you." Severus gulped. _'Shite! It **is** one of those kinds of toys. I really do not want to know what it is for!'_

"I doubt that Professor Snape will—"

"You let me handle that, Hermione. Now, let's get to the Feast, shall we?"

Severus jumped when he felt Minerva pinch his arse as he walked past her. He was sure his face was red.

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Hermione was sitting at the Head Table, bored out of her mind. Another Feast, another evening of inane chatter from her colleagues. She looked at Albus and rolled her eyes. She really did love that man, but since she had inhabited Severus' body, she could understand why the man walked around with a perpetual frown on his face. Albus could be, well, an idiot, if truth be told, and she knew Severus had no problems in announcing his opinion when and wherever he saw fit. She luxuriated in being able to do the same while she was stuck in this masquerade, unable to tell anyone who she really was. Thanks to Albus. _'Good job, idiot.'_ she muttered disdainfully under her breath.

While pretending to eat her meal – she wasn't really all that hungry – she surveyed the students. Most of them were in the typical mood of one returning from a good holiday and annoyed at being back at school, but glad to see their friends. Things, however, seemed amiss at the Gryffindor table. At least amongst her friends. Ron was, of course, eating with his usual gusto and was completely oblivious to what was going on around him. Harry and Seamus were talking quite enthusiastically about something and Severus was sitting, not quite sullenly, but more . . . embarrassed? Hermione noted a light blush on his cheeks. What had brought that about? She carefully eyed the room, suspecting Draco or someone else from the Slytherin table at first, but they were not paying a bit of attention to anything but themselves. As her gaze swiveled around, she caught sight of Minerva out of the corner of her eye. Minerva was flushed and overly cheerful for a Feast that wasn't serving anything stronger than Butterbeer. She gazed thoughtfully at Minerva and then back at Severus. _'She said something to him, I just know it!'_

As soon as students started to drift out of the Great Hall, Hermione swooped down to the Gryffindor table and laid a hand on the back of Severus' chair.

He turned around so quickly he nearly knocked his chair over; all his usual grace was gone. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him. "Detention, Miss Granger, with me. In 2 hours. Don't be late."

"Detention?" Severus looked up at her in surprise and annoyance. "Whatever for, sir? We just got back!"

Hermione's lips curled into a sneer. _'Oh, yes,'_ she thought triumphantly, _'I have the Severus look down pat!'_ "Have I ever needed a reason to give a _Gryffindor_ detention?"

Severus' eyes dropped to the floor, hiding his expression. Inwardly, he was laughing. _'Who knew that Head Girl Granger would play me off so perfectly?'_ he mused to himself.

He opened his mouth –

"And no backtalk or I'll take points."

Severus nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll be at the classroom at 8pm."

Hermione nodded, "See that you are," she muttered and then swept silently from the room.

Severus scowled. "Sometimes I hate that bloody git," he muttered, sure it would be in character for even someone like Hermione, considering that she had ostensibly received detention for merely existing.

Ron's mouth dropped open, and he dropped the lamb "drumlette" he was holding onto his plate of ribs. "Hermione!" He exclaimed, sounding horrified, "That's _Professor Snape_ to you!"

Severus gaped at Ron, and then Harry and Seamus who had nodded agreement. "Since when did you three care what I called him?"

The three boys shifted uncomfortably and returned to their meals without answering the question.

Severus frowned. Something was _definitely_ up. He wasn't sure, however, that he wanted to find out what it was.

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At precisely eight o'clock, Severus rapped on the door to the classroom to keep up pretenses, and then slipped inside. He knew Hermione would be in Severus' private rooms and immediately checked the lab first before continuing on to his den where he found Hermione resting comfortably in a chair, leaving his favourite one free; a goblet of Firewhiskey awaited him. Severus smiled.

"So," drawled Hermione, smirking as Severus sighed deeply before taking a sip of his beloved Ogden's, "how was your break?"

Severus placed the glass down carefully and leaned back in his chair. "It was quite nice; your parents are lovely people. I was quite enjoying myself until in the middle of caroling I was tapped on the shoulder by a _younger version of myself who wanted to be affectionate!_" Severus' voice got louder and louder, his cheeks were tinted red and he glared at Hermione who was trying not to smirk.

She got herself under control and apologized to Severus once again. He raised a hand in the air as if he was going to stop her and then shrugged and simply brushed his hair back out of his way. "I hope he wasn't important to you, Hermione," he said, a bit sheepishly.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"He . . . well, he tried to feel me up and I objected. I told him if he continued I would cut his heart out with a spoon and he was floored but all he managed to reply was 'why' and I told him because—"

Severus stopped in amusement when Hermione finished the line.

"It's dull, you twit. It will hurt more!" She laughed. "That's priceless, Severus. I love that line but it never would have occurred to me to say it." She shrugged. "I probably would have just punched him."

Severus gaped at her in surprise. "I cannot imagine you doing something like that, Hermione!"

She nodded. "No, really – ask Draco about third year."

Severus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Hermione grinned at her ability to render the Potions Master speechless. In the slightly awkward silence that followed, she stood and moved over to a counter to retrieve a package hidden there. She brought it back and dropped it in Severus' lap.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"It's called Christmas, Severus. I didn't have time to purchase a gift for you before you left. Open it," she commanded when he simply sat there looking alternately at her and the parcel.

Carefully, Severus pulled the wrapping aside to reveal several books.

_Not Dead Yet? A Potion Masters Guide to Poisons_ by Ethyl Burymore

_What Lies Beneath: The Use of Post Mortem Artifacts in Potions by_ Doug Graves & Barry d'Alive

_You Have Such Delicate Fingers . . . May I Eat Them? Quotes for All Occasions _by…Candice Decorum

Severus smiled in delight, laughing, no, giggling when he saw the title of the third book. "Not that I give many speeches, that's Albus' gig, but I'm sure I can get some good laughs out of it. Merlin knows I could use that at the end of the day." He paused. "Thank you, Hermione, I really appreciate these. You got quite a handful of books yourself from your parents. I think Molly helped them." There was something else, what was . . . oh, yes, "And some nice dress robes. I pray every day that I will no longer be in your body when the time comes to wear them."

Unfortunately, for whoever was listening in, Severus had merely said '_not in your body'_. He never specified that he be back in his own by the time Hermione would be wearing her dress robes.

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Severus returned to his room that night feeling more relaxed than he had since the day had began. He had completely forgotten the scary promise made by Minerva. He draped his clothes over the back of a chair, slid into bed, and was fast asleep before Crookshanks even realized he was back.

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On examining his schedule the next morning, he found he had Double Potions first off. He wondered if that had been Hermione's doing. He shrugged, not really caring, and got ready for class, remembering to shrink all of Hermione's new books – he'd left his own with her – and add them to his bag. He knew she wanted to read them and it wouldn't do to have the Potions Master visiting the Head Girl to borrow books. That done, he went and took a luxurious shower, thoroughly enjoying the hot water on his skin. He missed his own body, yet he had become accustomed to Hermione's smaller frame; embarrassment completely gone by this point – especially since he had been rescued from Minerva's forays – and could honestly say, though he would fervently deny it to anyone who asked – that he was enjoying himself. Except for the homework of course.

Dried and dressed, he patted Crookshanks on the head and made his way down to breakfast. Most people were not up yet, only a handful of students sat at each table, and a smattering of teachers at the High Table. Severus gulped down a quick breakfast and made off for the dungeons. He wanted to get Hermione's books to her before class began.

Hermione was in the classroom marking papers. She took the books gratefully and slipped out to drop them in the private lab; Severus waited for her. When she returned, he gestured towards the pre-set lab and asked, "So what exactly will be doing today?"

Hermione sank back into the teacher's chair. "We're going to work on the potions we were doing that got us into this mess." She raised a hand to stop Severus. "No, I don't expect that we'll have the same thing happen and be switched back; something tells me we're just not that lucky. However, as you said yourself, we need these potions in stock and Harry needs to be able to make Polyjuice for his N.E.W.Ts – without my help."

Severus smirked.

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Class began, and for awhile things went smoothly. But a class that held Harry, Neville, and Draco was not one that would – or could – run smooth for an entire class period. Especially when it was a double class. Trouble was always lurking around Harry, causalities around Neville, and Draco, well, he'd make sure that trouble came to fruition.

Hermione had her eyes on Harry as he bravely attempted to brew Polyjuice on his own. She had Severus restricted to preparation of the ingredients to give Harry a chance to prove that he knew what he was doing. She knew Severus wouldn't have any trouble following that order. A knock sounded at the door, and Hermione strode briskly over to it to find Seamus standing at the other side. She glared at him, enjoying how quickly he shrunk away from her.

"Yes, Mr. Finnegan? I believe it is a bit late in the year to try to charm me into joining your classmates – not that you have the O.W.L.s for it anyhow."

Seamus frowned, but made no reply to the harsh words. He held up a bit of parchment instead. "I have a note for Harry, sir, from Professor McGonagall."

Hermione sighed. "Well, take it to him, boy and be quick about it or you'll both be losing points for Gryffindor."

In the few seconds it took for Seamus to cross the room, Hermione to shut the door, and Severus to feign interest in Harry's note was all the time Draco needed to toss a full bottle of Boomslang venom into Neville's cauldron which promptly hissed, frothed, and finally exploded. Seamus and Severus were closest to it – Neville having learned to duck under the table years ago – and were both liberally doused in the volatile mixture.

Both students jumped backwards in an attempt to escape the burning liquid. "Both of you take your robes off _immediately_!" announced Hermione. "Longbottom, out, just . . . _out_! Miss Granger, Mr. Finnegan –" she waved her wand at them, clearing away the worst of the mess, "go shower immediately. Merlin only knows how that will react with your skin. Leave your robes. Potter, if your potion was untouched by the explosion, put it in stasis for the next lesson." Hermione turned on Draco, finding him working as if nothing had happened. "And Mr. Malfoy," Hermione sneered, "you'll be serving detention with Filch tonight."

Draco paled, perhaps remembering his last detention when Filch sent him out to the Forbidden Forest. "But, but _Professor_," Draco protested, "_I_ didn't do anything. You know that Longbottom is a fool in potions!"

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him and looked to see about the other students. The room had cleared out. She turned back to Draco. "Longbottom's potion was progressing just fine moments before I turned my back to him. I _know_ you lobbed something –" she examined the evidence in the blasted cauldron, and levitated the now empty bottle out of it. "Merlin, did you have use the whole vial!" Hermione's voice was low and rough with frustration. "Detention. Tonight. Eight sharp. Do not let me hear that you were late or skipped out on it, or you will be the first Slytherin to lose more than five points from me." Her voice brooked no room for arguments. "Now, _get out_."

Severus fled to the Head Girl's room, immediately stripping out the rest of his clothes once he was behind closed doors and jumped into the shower. A long bath later, he was redressed and headed to his next class.

Seamus had also run for it, glad that no one was in the dormitory so he wouldn't have to explain anything, made sure his clothes were in the hamper so that no one else would touch them by mistake and raced into the showers.

Harry had not been doused at all, having been behind Seamus and Hermione, and was currently comforting Neville. "Look, Neville, I know it wasn't your fault. Hell, even Professor Snape _knows_ that. I wasn't that far from the classroom when I heard him _bellow_ at Draco! He gave that prat detention – can you believe it!"

Neville shook his head in wonderment. "I guess he wasn't really mad at me, then – for once! He just didn't want anyone around when he chastised Draco."

"What did Draco toss into your potion anyhow?"

"A vial of Boomslang venom – an _entire_ vial!"

"Wow! I guess we're lucky nothing worse happened."

Neville nodded, although he frowned, trying to think of any possible effects that hadn't been considered. He decided he would take it up with Professor Sprout later.

That night at dinner, Severus seemed restless, poking at his food without much gusto. Seamus seemed agitated as well. Harry looked at his friends with concern. Ron was trying to find out what was up with Seamus, so Harry turned to his other best friend and put a gentle hand on the small of her back. Severus barely reacted, merely turning a weary look on Harry.

"What's wrong, Hermione," asked Harry softly. "Did that accident have wider ranging effects than Professor Snape thought?"

Severus shrugged. "There's no way to know what the effects will be, Harry. I don't even know what happened."

Neville looked around Harry. "Draco flung an _entire vial_ of Boomslang venom into my cauldron when no one was looking."

Severus paled. "An entire vial?" Neville nodded. "How was your potion prior to that?"

Neville blushed faintly. "It was actually good. Professor Snape had just looked at it and said as much . . . well, you know, in his own snarky way."

Severus' lips twitched into what might have been a grin.

"I think I am going to go back to my room. I am awfully tired. I'll see you boys tomorrow."

Neville stood. "I'll walk back with you, Hermione. I have some questions for Professor Sprout, and I want to pick up some books from my trunk before I go talk to her."

Severus nodded in acquiescence. To his surprise, Neville as a friend had proven to be an alright person. Of course, there was the advantage of Neville not being scared out of his wits – hence Severus' determination that he master the Wit Sharpening potion, thinking it might help the poor boy – when he was not around any Slytherins. At least, as far as Neville was concerned he was not around any. Imagine the poor boy's shock if he knew who he had been spending this year with! Severus held back a smirk.

As they approached the Head Girl's room, which was closer than the Tower, Neville inexplicably grew nervous, despite the fact that there was no one around them.

Severus carefully took down the wards on his door, not a bit worried about Neville watching the process; the boy would never be able to replicate the spells. Neville shifted back and forth on his feet until Severus sighed and asked, "Yes, Neville? Is something wrong?" in the gentlest voice he could manage.

Neville raised his eyes to Severus', a blush apparent on his slightly round cheeks, and he tentatively placed a hand on the astonished shoulder of the disguised Potions Master.

"He- Hermione," Neville began nervously, "I – I've really been glad for your friendship over the years. You've always been so sweet and helpful to me, no matter how badly I fouled up in Potions!" Severus quirked an eyebrow, wondering where this was going; nothing prepared him for Neville's next words. "I really like you, Hermione, and since I know why Ron and Harry never . . . well, anyhow, would you be my girlfriend?"

Severus was dumbstruck. _'At least I know that I am one-hundred percent safe in turning down any males that ask Hermione this!'_ He reassured himself of this a couple more times before speaking.

Neville mistook the look of surprise for one of encouragement and leaned closer, intending to kiss his friend.

Severus pulled back in distaste. _Complete and utter distaste_.

"Mr. Long . . . Neville . . . I don't . . . LIKE . . . you _that_ way."

Neville's eyes opened wide, the hurt obvious, but Severus ploughed ahead, thinking himself well rid of this annoying little boy.

"I don't like you _at all_ in fact."

He scowled at the crushed boy so fiercely that for a second, Neville wouldn't have been at all surprised if he had found out the truth about who was currently living in Hermione's body. He turned and ran, and Severus slunk inside his room, feeling a twinge of guilt before he shrugged, reset the wards and passed out on his bed, completely worn out.

He could not have let him down easily even if he tried. Or cared. That was just not the Severus Snape way of doing things.

-

-

-

-

-

Ron and Harry walked back with Seamus to find Neville sprawled out on the couch, face red, dried tear tracks obvious on his face.

"Hey, Mate, what's wrong?"

Neville opened his eyes and peered up at Ron. "I asked Hermione out and she said not only does she not like me _that_ way but she doesn't like me _at all_!"

Ron and Harry looked at each other. "That seems . . . rather harsh, even for Hermione in a mood."

Neville nodded. "I guess it was just pity all these years." He sniffled.

"I'm sorry, Neville," Harry said softly. "Do you want some calming draught? I have some upstairs."

Neville considered. "Okay, I'd like to just sleep tonight and not be aware of anything. That will help."

Neville's decision turned out to be a good one.

-

-

-

-

-

Several hours later, had anyone been awake in the seventh year Gryffindor boys dorm, they would have seen a brilliant flash of silver light mingled with gold encase Seamus' body and then shimmer as the silver absorbed into him. The gold hovered and then popped out. An intelligent familiar elsewhere in the castle jumped in alarm as his new mistress was incased in gold light that sank into her body. The cat's ears twitched in unease.

-

-

-

-

-

Not long after, Ron and Harry snuck upstairs to the dormitory, arms full of pilfered treats from the kitchens: honey, chocolate syrup, whipped cream . . .

-

-

-

-

-

Severus was dreaming he was back in his own body, deftly brewing an intricate potion in his private labs. Although his mind was always his own, this was the first he had dreamt of being in his own, _male_ body since this whole mix-up began. He stretched luxuriously, feeling his joints pop as his sinewy muscles stretched and his bones slipped into place, working all the kinks out of his system.

As he worked, he felt something on his shoulder and he brushed it off. Then it was on his leg, moving up his thigh. He brushed at the tickling feeling again in annoyance. Couldn't he work in peace, even in his dreams?

Severus turned over in his sleep, and the ticklish feeling intensified, moving up his chest, over his nipples and towards his face. He twitched, brain creeping into consciousness as he felt a rush of warm air by his ear.

"Wake up," came the whispered plea as his eyelids fluttered open. He must have switched into a nightmare, for it was the only explanation his drowsy mind could come up with as he stared at the all too familiar pairs of eyes. He sat up in alarm.

That was when he realized he was no longer in Hermione's room.

Severus opened his eyes and found two sets of eyes watching him. He sat up in alarm. _'What the bloody hell? I know I reset the wards!'_

-

-

-

-

-

The eyes watching him belonged to none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

-

-

-

-

-

He was completely starkers. _'Where the bloody hell are my clothes?'_

-

-

-

-

-

The ticklish feeling returned, followed by a warm wetness and Severus realized Harry was gently stroking his thighs while Ron squeezed a generous amount of chocolate syrup over his shoulders.

He could find no words suitable for this situation and simply stared as Harry leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

"We were wondering when you were going to wake-up."

-

-

-

-

-

"Tell me where the wig is and **_I _**will play Severus tonight."

Severus started in terror. _'Wig!'_

'_**Play **Severus!'_


	11. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World!

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

By MysticSlave

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

_Author's Note:_

_Alert: How many can you find? Nursery Rhymes, Rickmanisms **and** things said **to** Rickman? Rickmanisms may be film lines, interview lines or tidbits from "film diaries".  
_

**_The song lyrics in this chapter are public domain thus there is no copyright infringement. The author has checked into this._**

_Love MysticSong1978 & Slave4Severus_

**Chapter Eleven:** **It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World!**

_'I. Am. In. Hell.'_

Severus was so completely taken aback that for a brief moment he did not register that he was no longer in Hermione's body.

He was in a male body again.

Not his own of course.

His luck would never be that good.

_'Rot. Crikey. Bloody hell. I am going to kill . . . somebody! Starting with these two. When I can moooooooooooove . . . Bloody hell! I did not just react to being fondled by Harry Bloody Potter!'_

Severus buried his face in his hands and moaned.

Ron and Harry were unsure if it was a moan of pleasure or not and stopped their advances long enough to check. Ron prodded him gently, smearing the syrup that was drenching the boy's shoulders.

"Seamus? Seamus, mate. Are you alright? Still reeling from the accident in Potions? Harry and I figured a little loving would set you right, but if you're ill we'll clean you up and wait for tomorrow night."

_'I did **not** just hear that,'_ thought Severus in horror.

Ron and Harry looked at each other in consternation. Seamus was usually the most sexual of the three of them, and here he was just sitting, a blind look of . . . horror on his face. Did the accident have long range effects that were just now registering?

Ron shrugged at Harry and moved to sit behind Severus, cuddling close and wrapping his arms snuggly around the other boy. He laid his head on Severus' shoulder and planted soft kisses on his neck.

"Harry," he murmured, "go get ready. I'll get Seamus here relaxed and ready. You know he can never say no to Severus."

Harry nodded and slipped out between the curtains around Seamus' bed, returning dressed in long, starkly black robes, black wig, and a fairly good glamour that gave Harry the facial recognition of the Potions Master, even if the rest of his body remained Potterish.

Severus made an unidentifiable high-pitched squeak which would never have escaped his body had he been, well, in his own.

"Shh, shhh... it's alright," Ron cooed in his ear, breath warm against skin. Severus shivered, partially in delight as his body treacherously reacted to Ron's touch and partially in horror as he realized he was about to be, well, yes, forced into unwanted sex again, going against his self-induced celibate nature. _'Was this to be better or worse than the escapade with Minerva?'_ he wondered inanely._ 'I suppose anything would be better than another tryst with that old hag. What is it with all these same-sex partnerships? Not that it's a bad thing, unlike in Muggle customs, it just seems curious . . . perhaps it was always like this and I just never noticed since I kept to myself so much and . . .' _Severus realized he was rambling to himself to keep from paying too much attention to what Harry, dressed up as himself, was doing to the body he currently inhabited._ 'What was that Muggle show? Twilight Zone? Yes, that seemed to fit. Too bad I know I'm already awake and not having some dreadful nightmare. I wonder if I can talk Albus into new sleeping arrangements for Mr. Finnegan?'_

Severus realized Harry was now draped over his thighs, long black hair tickling his groin_. 'I feel like some special kind of pervert being seduced by a student, The Bloody Boy Who Lived no less, dressed up as his hated . . . apparently not **that **hated . . .Potions professor. Urgh,' _mused Severus. It was all so, completely, utterly wrong. Albus was definitely losing it. _'Or he will when I kill him. . . if he doesn't die of shock when this all gets fixed and I tell everyone the truth.' _Severus smirked gleefully at this thought; at what Minerva and others would say when they realized they had been seducing Severus Snape and not Hermione and Seamus.

"Do you remember the poem you rewrote, Seamus?" Ron asked softly.

Severus shook his head, eyes glazed in a semi-passion/semi-horror induced state. Slytherins knew when to fight or when to flee and although Severus nearly always stood and fought, if he could have extracted himself from the bed, he would have run as fast as Seamus' legs would carry him. Unfortunately Ron and Harry had apparently stripped him and running away starkers was not really the impression he wanted to leave. He had a sneaky suspicion one or both boys would follow him if he made such a move.

Ron leaned further into Severus' body and Severus realized in dismay that Ron had apparently charmed off his own clothes since climbing in behind him.

Ron's breathy voice, with more dignity than Severus had ever heard before, began reciting what Severus had once considered his favourite Shakespearian sonnet. He was afraid after hearing these new words he would never view it the same way again.

_'My master's eyes are nothing like the sun;_

_Coral is far more red than his lips' red:_

_If snow be white, why then his chest be dun;_

_If hairs be wires, black wires grow on his head._

_I have seen roses damask'd, black and white,_

_But no such roses see I in his cheeks;_

_And in some potions is there more delight_

_Than in the breath that from my master reeks._

_I love to hear him speak, as so we know_

_No sound more pleasing could be found_

_I grant I never saw an Adonis go, _

_My master when he walks, treads on the ground;_

_And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare_

_As any he belied beyond compare.'_

Severus froze at hearing the words whispered in his ear and Harry took advantage of his absolute stillness to wrap his lips around . . .

-

Meanwhile, down in the dungeons, Draco was headed for detention.

Draco strode into the Potions classroom without knocking. This did little to change Hermione's view of him, and she glared at her wayward student with a smirk worthy of Snape at his worst.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are, ostensibly a Pureblood," the word sounding as foul as Mudblood did from Draco's lips, "and one would assume you had been raised in a nice home with manners, and not in a shack like a wild animal?"

Draco frowned indignantly at his professor.

Hermione stood and swooped by him. "Knock, Mr. Malfoy, when you enter someone's room. It is polite."

Draco's cheeks were tinged red and he was hard-put to keep his temper reigned in. '_Father will hear about this insolence!'_

"I am well aware that it was you that sabotaged Mr. Longbottom's cauldron, and I thought about having you scrub them all out by hand, but something has come up and I will be sending you to serve detention with Mr. Filch. Tonight."

Draco paled. The last time he had served with Filch, he'd been trotted out to the Forbidden Forest like some sort of servant.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, glaring at Draco, daring him to challenge her authority.

Draco looked away first and, with a heavy sigh, strode out of the classroom towards Filch's quarters.

-

As he neared the squib's rooms, he heard a peculiar sound coming from a nearby closet. It sounded like . . . singing?

_I love little pussy,  
Her coat is so warm,  
And if I don't hurt her,  
She'll do me no harm. _

_So I'll not pull her tail,  
Nor drive her away,  
But pussy and I,  
Very gently will play._

Draco's mouth fell open in a very undignified manner. _'That cannot be a real song! It's so . . . completely . . . naughty! And who is singing it?'_

He heard a sudden movement behind him and spun around to find Mrs. Norris eyeing him.

He leaned down until his face was a mere hair's breadth from the cat's face and murmured, "Fuck off."

Almost immediately he heard the low voice of Filch mutter, "Ohhh, we are in trouble . . ."

Draco snapped upright, turning to apologize, but Filch was nowhere to be seen. He watched as Mrs. Norris primly sat down in front of the closet and began to wash herself. Draco's expression cleared as it dawned on him it had been Filch singing in the closet.

"Weird man, that one," muttered Draco as he shoved Mrs. Norris out of the way with his foot so that he could let Filch know he was as ready as he'd ever be for his detention.

Without bothering to knock, he began to pull open the door.

What Draco saw would scar him for life.

-

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts when a frantic rapping sounded on the door. _'Hmm. . . . too large for an owl.'_

"Enter," she called out in Snape's austere tones.

Draco burst into the classroom, face white as a sheet, eyes wide, mouth agape. Hermione realized he was entering the first stages of shock. What had happened to the boy? He had been gone less than ten minutes!

Hermione placed both hands on the boy's shoulders in an attempt to settle him, and somewhat gently pushed him into her desk chair before peering into his eyes, trying to gauge how far into shock Draco had gone.

"Draco?" she murmured, "Are you still in there, boy?"

A bit of red tinged Draco's cheeks, although she was unsure if it was in fear or anger. His lips were pale and his skin was clammy to the touch. "Stay here," she instructed and rose to fetch a potion. She debated for a moment and came back with a Calming Draught which she helped him drink. Slowly, his heart-rate came back down to normal.

"Draco," Hermione tipped his face up to look at hers once more, "can you tell me what happened?"

He shook his head, looking for all the world like a scared little girl.

Hermione sighed. It was hard to hate him when he looked so vulnerable – and she didn't even know what had frightened him.

"Draco, can you pull yourself together enough to put your thoughts into a pensieve for me?"

Draco appeared to be thinking about her request. "Can't you just do Legilimency? I'm so tired, Professor."

Even had she known how, she would not have dared such a risk. There was too much of a chance that Draco would realize Hermione was wearing her professor's body. She shook her head. "Not with you in the state you're in, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sighed and then nodded. "The pensieve, then, sir."

Hermione hid a sigh of relief and went to fetch the empty one that she kept handy for emergencies.

Draco slowly fed a long, silver streak into the bowl and handed it to Hermione. "May I go, sir? I'll . . . I'll serve detention another night if you want me to, but please, not with Filch. I could not bear it."

Hermione was shocked to realize that Draco looked ready to cry. "Go, then, Mr. Malfoy. I'll figure something out for you after I view your memories."

Draco nodded and moved to slip out the door. With one scared look back at Hermione, he muttered, "Be careful, sir."

-

When Draco had left, Hermione settled herself comfortably in her chair and dipped her wand into the penseive's contents.

Hermione followed Draco through telling Mrs. Norris off, hearing Filch tell someone they were in trouble, and Draco's kicking Mrs. Norris out of his way – she had to smile at that – and then she saw what had horrified Draco so terribly when the closet door was slowly pulled open.

There stood Filch in all his natural glory. Apparently even as a squib, he had something that witches desired. Sick, depraved, mentally unstable witches, that is.

Hung like a horse was an understatement. Hung like a centaur was more like it. Hermione was horrified. She dragged her eyes away from Filch in order to see who was lonely enough to want him.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she was glad that she could not be seen by the people in this memory. Shackled to the wall hung Madam Hooch, and spread out in front of Filch was Professor Sprout; no doubt Filch had been referring to the tiny woman on the floor when he said someone was in trouble. Sprout was far too small for someone of Filch's . . . impressive . . . erm . . . girth.

Hermione idly wondered if the real reason that Filch confiscated things from the students was to use them in these situations. She shuddered at the thought even though he had never made off with any of her belongings.

Draco suddenly tore himself away from the terror in front of him and ran down the hall. Hermione was jerked forcefully out of the memory.

She sat up, breathing hard, face flushed in embarrassment. She would never be able to look at the three of them without remembering tonight.

She shook her head to clear it and penned a quick note to Draco and sent it on its way with Snape's owl. _"Your detention tonight was adequate and you need not serve it any further. I believe you have learned your lesson regarding meddling in things which are none of your business. Good day. Professor Snape. P.S. I advise you drink the included vial of Dreamless Sleep."_

Hermione set a vial aside for herself.

_-_

Shortly after sending the owl, Hermione flooed into her old Head Girl rooms in order to brief Severus on what had happened with Draco. Not that the event would ever slip her mind, unless she had that bit obliviated, but she felt that it was something of which the boy's true Head of House should be made aware.

Severus was passed out on his bed, sound asleep. Hermione smiled to herself. She was glad to see he was getting some well deserved rest. She hated to wake him, but felt it was warranted.

Sitting down on the bed next to Severus, she leaned over and called his name. When that did not work, she started tickling him in the spots she knew to be sensitive on her body.

Severus began to squirm and within moments turned over. Sleep-weary eyes stared blearily up at her, surprise blatantly obvious. Hermione smirked to herself. She supposed it would be rather surprising, even to Severus, to wake up and find a professor staring down at you in the middle of the night.

"Professor?"

"Something's happened to Draco, and I thought you would want to know as soon as possible," said Hermione in way of an explanation.

The words made no sense to Seamus. Why would he care if something happened to that pureblood git, Draco? More importantly, why in the world was Severus Snape sitting on his bed? If this was a dream, it was awfully realistic. . . and if it wasn't, well,_ 'Dreams do come true,'_ mused a semi-conscious Seamus.

Seamus roused himself from his slumber and pushed himself into a sitting position. He tentatively touched the Potion Master's hand that was resting on the coverlet and was both surprised and gratified when the man did not pull away.

"Let's not talk about Draco right now, sir."

He received the infamous smirk and quirking of eyebrow at this and, taking it completely the wrong way, flung himself onto the professor, burying his face into his neck, trailing kisses down the soft skin he found there.

Hermione was beyond shocked._ 'This was not shaping up to be a good evening. Something was terribly wrong with everyone!'_

She opened her mouth to express such a sentiment only to have her own lips pressed against hers in a fervent kiss. When the kiss began to deepen, she pushed frantically at the body, but was simply clung to in a tighter fashion.

_'I am in Heaven!'_ thought Seamus, as he pushed himself bodily against the man of his dreams. He was surprised to realize he did not feel his arousal as much as he would have expected. In fact, nothing was between them at all. He slid a hand down his body and to his horror, found nothing there. He peered down at himself and screeched in horror.

_"Oh my God! I'm a girl!"_

And promptly passed out.

Hermione sighed. Things were never easy at Hogwarts. This did not appear to be Severus. Which begged the questions how and whom?

She was pretty sure Neville and his potions incident was the cause of how. This, she realized in horror, meant that the most likely new resident in her body was Seamus Finnegan. Which meant Severus was up in Gryffindor Tower in Seamus' body.

_'Bugger,'_ thought Hermione.

Unfortunately for Severus, she didn't know how apt that comment was.

-

Hermione stepped carefully out of the Floo into the Infirmary, where she carefully laid her body on a bed, drew the curtains, and went in search of Poppy.

"Hermione?"

She nodded.

"What can I do for you?"

"It would appear there was another switch. We had an incident in potions today and the effect was apparently delayed."

Hermione sighed.

"I'm pretty sure Seamus is now in my body and that Severus is in Seamus' body. Hopefully sound asleep and blissfully unaware of what happened. Until he gets up in the morning."

Poppy shook her head. "How is Seamus?"

"Unconscious. I left him on one of the beds and drew the curtains."

Poppy nodded. "And the reason for his current state?"

Hermione blushed. Poppy smiled to herself. The red tinge on Severus' cheeks made him seem much more human and, dare she say it? Sweet.

"Draco was to serve detention tonight for instigating the potions mishap. I sent him to Filch who was . . . . already well occupied for the evening and the sight sent Draco into shock. After I dealt with Draco, I flooed into my old room to inform Severus. When he woke up, he looked at me with some surprise, told me he did not wish to discuss Draco, leapt into my arms and tried to snog me. Hell, he did snog me."

Poppy was surprised to hear Hermione swear, but under the circumstances she figured it was warranted.

"Do I even want to know what Draco saw?"

Hermione shook her head. "I wish I hadn't seen it, but I had Draco copy the memory into a pensieve so that I could view it and decide what course of action to take next. I'll let Albus know, but I do not believe anyone else needs to be aware of what happened. I imagine Albus will tell me if it should be otherwise."

Hermione sighed.

So did Poppy.

"Go get the Headmaster, child. I'll stay here with Seamus."

-

A few minutes later, Hermione returned with Albus in tow.

Albus stood over the bed peering down at Seamus. Hermione had already filled him in on what had happened, and had promised to show the pensieve to Albus later that night.

"We'll have to tell him what is going on, Albus," Poppy pointed out.

Albus smiled at the two women. "Yes, I suppose we shall," he mused, leaving Hermione and Poppy feeling decidedly out of sorts and a bit nervous.

"He seems to be alright for now, let us go in your office while we wait. Hermione, why don't you fetch the pensieve and I'll view Mr. Malfoy's memory while we're up here."

Hermione nodded, and flooed back to her classroom to pick up the basin. On returning, she set it carefully in front of Albus and sank wearily down into a soft chair.

"I warn you, Albus, that memory is beyond disturbing. I gave Mr. Malfoy a vial of Dreamless Sleep and I'll be taking one myself whenever I get to bed."

Albus merely twinkled and dipped his wand into the swirling silver contents.

Moments later he flew back out, nearly upsetting the pensieve, with a look of horror and . . . jealous rage on his face.

He stood, placed the pensieve in Hermione's lap, and, muttering under his breath, strode out of the infirmary.

"Did he say he was going to kill Rolanda?"

"Yes."

"Thought he did."

There was a pause.

"Why would Albus want to kill Rolanda? I thought they were lovers."

Hermione groaned. She handed Poppy the pensieve. "This will answer your questions. I am going to try to get some sleep so I will be able to deal with everyone tomorrow. Do not let Seamus leave; we still have to explain things to him."

Poppy nodded.

"Oh, and Poppy?"

The older woman looked up.

Hermione fished through her pockets and tossed the medi-witch a vial containing an extra strong sleeping draught. "You might need that after you see what Draco saw."

And with that, she swept out of the room

-

The next morning, Seamus awoke to find himself bound to a hospital bed. Poppy's deft way of ensuring that students did not escape out of her watch before she was ready for them to leave.

A small smirk graced his lips. "Who would have ever thought," he mused, "that Know-it-All Granger and the snarky Potions Master would have a thing going on." He snickered. "Hermione, you have been a bad, bad girl. . . . And I am going to make very good use of it."

_Author's Note:_

_The nursery rhyme that Argus is singing is a real nursery rhyme. To hear the first verse, please visit MysticSong1978's website (available in her profile). There's a link in the middle of the first page that says 'Mystic's Art, etc' - go there for eFiction art and extras!_


	12. Welcome to SnogFest 1997!

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment.

**Chapter Twelve:** Welcome to SnogFest 1997!

The next morning found several people late to breakfast; mainly those who had taken Dreamless Sleep for the first time and were not aware that just a sip too much would really knock you out for the count. Hermione watched with a bland expression as a professor here, a student there, straggled in. Draco never showed; she decided she would have to check in with him later – her conscious as Head Girl and her determination to protect Severus' reputation insured that she would not even let anything happen to the most annoying of Slytherins as long as they were convinced she was their Head of House. As her eyes roamed the Great Hall with seeming disinterest, she realized that Filch was also missing and a despondent looking Mrs. Norris was actually approaching the first years that were less familiar with her sneaky ways, with something approaching the manner of a normal pet cat. _'Did Albus fire Filch?'_ Hermione mused, wondering what else could make the persnickety feline seek out friendly attention from anyone but the cantankerous caretaker.

Hermione eyed the Gryffindor table once again, noting the curious absence of Harry, Ron, and Seamus. What would have kept the three of them? Perhaps _Seamus_ was disoriented this morning and they boys had taken him to see Madam Pomfrey. Her mind could not come up with any other reasons, certainly not what the truth would turn out to be, and with a disgruntled sigh, began to eat her breakfast.

She had her eyes on her kippers when she heard a bit of a commotion in the Great Hall. Before she could look up, she heard the whisper of a comment from Albus to Minerva . . . something about one of her little lions looking well shagged this morning. _'I did not just hear Albus use the word shagged,'_ Hermione groaned inaudibly, struggling to keep any hint of blush from appearing on the dour Potion Master's pale face. Emotions once again under control, she peeked upwards through the curtain of protective hair to see what had brought about the embarrassing words from the Headmaster.

The three missing boys.

Harry, looking inordinately pleased with himself. And well shagged.

Ron, looking inordinately pleased with himself. And well shagged.

And Seamus, looking . . . quite wretched. And well shagged.

Moreover, thoroughly displeased about the whole thing while at the same time, trying not to look entirely discomfited, trying to stay in the part that he was now cast in. _'Poor Severus!'_ And, as she realized why all three of them would be looking well shagged as a collective unit, so to speak, Hermione abruptly inhaled her mouthful of coffee, the hot liquid burning her throat and lungs. Albus, both amused over the Gryffindors and, if the strength behind the slap he gave Hermione between her shoulder blades was anything to go by, still quite furious with Rolanda who was sitting at the furthest end of the table from Albus that she could get, made sure that Hermione wouldn't choke any further, and promptly sat back down again.

The whole scene took less than a minute but had attracted the attention of nearly everyone in the room. Particularly Severus who glared at her. She glared back. She realized her own body was nowhere to be seen. Given that Poppy was also missing, determined that Seamus must still be in the infirmary.That worried her a bit.

Quite finished with breakfast, in much need of an oral burn salve, and quite positive that Severus would not be wanting breakfast this morning – especially since his regular 'potion' of coffee was at Hermione's place and he couldn't very well take it without causing a ruckus, Hermione swooped down from the faculty table, snatched the vial from Hermione's place, and in the well cultivated cold voice of Professor Snape, lip curled in distaste, informed Seamus that he had detention starting right now and to please follow. Hermione knew that Seamus had no morning classes and as she was free this period, was safe in calling Severus down in this manner. Severus, as Seamus, gave a fair attempt at being surly regarding the whole thing but did follow Hermione down to the dungeons.

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Once inside her private chamber, Severus sank down on his sorely missed couch in poorly disguised relief.

Hermione watched him through narrow eyes as he repositioned himself again and again, never seeming to be quite comfortable. Hermione was curious; it was unlike him to be so fidgety.

"Severus, are you alright?"

No answer. He continued to shift around.

"Severus?"

No answer.

"_Severus!"_ she hissed.

"What?" came the annoyed response.

Hermione forced herself to temper her voice.

"Are you alright?"

Severus shook his head. He wouldn't – or couldn't – make eye contact with Hermione.

She moved over to the couch and sat down next to the Potions Master. In some ways, it was even weirder knowing the man was stuck in Seamus' body than it was knowing he had been in hers. At least she knew her body was in safe keeping with Severus inside it.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "Severus?" she tried again. He turned his face from her. She placed a hand under his chin and gently turned him to face her. She was surprised to see tears welling in his eyes.

"NO! I am _not_ okay, alright?"

"Is it that bad, being Seamus? Or was it sleeping in Gryffindor?"

"No," said Severus, his voice wavering, "it . . . it is because your _two best friends in all the world buggered me last night while Harry was dressed up as me!"_

Hermione blinked, unable for once to say anything useful or comprehensible to what she had just heard.

She stared woefully at Severus who stared mournfully back. Feeling powerless and incapable of doing anything else at the moment and feeling quite aghast at learning about yet another unexpected sexual going on in Hogwarts, she simply gathered the boy's body into her lap and held him.

Severus, having had all he could take of unwanted sexual encounters with people he simply could not stand, let the woman he had come to see as a friend and respectable person, hold him until his sobs receded enough for him to think clearly. His face pressed into familiar smelling robes, his own scent lulling him into a sort of quasi-sleep, he wrapped the arms of his new body around his own and sighed.

Hermione rubbed circles on his back. When Severus had collected himself, he started to move away, only to start in surprise when Hermione stood gracefully and carried him into the storage area in order to fetch the appropriate healing potions. He was a bit embarrassed, but grateful. In Seamus' body he would never have been tall enough to reach the special potions that he would need to ingest, and Hermione, smart as she was, would not know which ones to pull off of the shelves. These were used more often than he would like to acknowledge, given in secret to his poor Slytherins that came from less friendly families.

Once he was feeling better, Hermione sent him on his way back to the Tower, promising she would speak with Dumbledore and find a good reason to get Seamus his own place to sleep before the evening was upon them.

"You don't look like you have been upset," Hermione said, carefully examining Severus' face, "but if anyone asks, your detention was for the accident in Potions the other day and I was my usual snarky self as I made you . . . clean cauldrons and . . . disembowel horny toads. That always left Neville looking quite shaken."

Severus shook his head, and patted Hermione on the hand in a gesture of thanks. Hermione paused a moment before wrapping her arms around her professor. He stiffened for an instant before hugging her back. After all that happened, even Severus needed a hug.

A small smile flitted across his face and then he out the door.

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Later that day found Hermione arguing with Albus, Seamus making his escape from the Infirmary to the Head Girl's room, and Severus sitting morosely in Gryffindor Tower, trying his best to act cheerful.

In Hermione's worry over what had happened to the Potions Master took over any concern she had initially felt for a teenaged boy taking residence up in her body.

"Headmaster—"

"Please, call me Albus."

Hermione sighed. "Albus, I understand that you do not want a lot of people getting wind of what happened, and I am _not_ suggesting we tell Harry or Ron, or really any student outside of Seamus Finnegan, but we really need to talk to . . . " she sighed a moment, feeling she was sealing her own doom, "Minerva."

Albus looked up, sporting an overly cheerful smile.

"And if you twinkle at me for that suggestion, so help me, I will hex you." Hermione told him vehemently.

Albus could not help the small smile that played on his lips but he kept the twinkle out of his eyes.

"Let me work out a reason and a place for Seamus, and _then_ we will talk with Minerva. In the meantime, I think it is best for you to catch up with your own little interloper, Hermione."

Something in his voice gave her a start and she looked questioningly at the old man. "What do you know about Seamus that I do not already know, Albus," she growled at him, "aside from the fact that he likes blokes and particularly likes my two best friends. Something they never bothered to tell me."

Albus merely steepled his fingers under his chin and smiled benignly.

She gave a sigh of frustration and stalked out of the Headmaster's office, wondering what on earth Seamus was up to while wearing her skin.

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When Seamus awoke in the next morning – afternoon, actually – he remembered with delight that the Potions Master had put him to bed. And it was most definitely him, not Harry playing around with glamours.

Seamus wasn't the brightest wizard at Hogwarts, but he was smart enough and a friendly bloke. He was also rather frisky. Unfortunately, he had been waylaid in his driving desire to bed certain students by his gender. _'Now,'_ he thought delightedly to himself, _'that that little obstacle has been lifted; it is time to make the rounds. Hermione has been sought after by many of the same boys who wouldn't touch me in my own body, and if she can get it on with the good professor, than surely I can make a few catches of my own with some other bad – and not so bad – boys.'_ Seamus nodded to himself. _'When life hands you quaffles,'_ he thought, _'you score!'_ And that was _exactly_ what Seamus planned to do.

He carefully looked through Hermione's wardrobe, quickly becoming disgusted at the lack of . . . creative clothing that the Head Girl owned. Sighing in frustration, he pulled out an outfit that Hermione had obviously grown out of and transfigured it a wee bit smaller, the shirt, a wee bit translucent, the skirt a wee bit swishier. He smiled at his handiwork. He wasn't all bad at Transfiguration; he just liked the practical side of it far better than transfiguring animals into still life. Slipping into the new outfit, he made his way to her bathroom to see what sort of makeup Hermione had. Not much was the answer. Still, some was better than one, especially since Hermione was not prone to wearing any most of the time. He dolled himself up, sprayed himself lightly with perfume, and, throwing on a robe so he wouldn't seem quite so out of character, made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch, feeling quite ravenous having missed breakfast – and ready to seek out his first . . . prey.

It was lucky for Seamus, unlucky for Hermione that the unfortunately mixed group did not overlap during lunch. Seamus began and left early; Hermione and the others who were unknowingly involved in this tricky magical web came later. There was also the advantage that fewer faculty in general ate in the Great Hall on the weekends.

But, those people who were in the Hall when Seamus entered in Hermione's body stared at the Head Girl in shock.

Draco had completely missed breakfast and was sitting morosely in the Hall for lunch. He had gone early hoping not to run into to many people. He was still horrified at what he had witnessed along with being rather sleepy from the draught he had inadvertently taken too much of the night before. However, when Hermione walked in, his head snapped up. Who knew the Head Girl could look so sexy.

Seamus was quite pleased at Draco's attentions. That was one bad boy that he had been unable to get the attention of whilst in his own body. He was not about to let this golden opportunity pass by.

Seamus sat himself down in Hermione's usual place and began his meal; flitting his eyes at Draco from time to time. He was delighted to see bananas offered for the afternoon fruit, and, making sure he had Draco's awareness, peeled it slowly, and slipped the curved length between his soft lips. With movements that showed much practice, Seamus was pulling it back and forth, ever so gently, licking and nibbling around the tip, slowly sucking the top of the banana off in such a manner that he never actually _bit_ the top bit off.

Draco wrenched his eyes away suddenly and Seamus could imagine the other boy's horror at being attracted to the _'know-it-all' _of Gryffindor.

Seamus consumed the rest of his meal as quickly and neatly as possible, and then slipped out of the Great Hall and into an alcove. Moments later, Draco left the Hall and headed towards the dungeon. Before he could get far, Seamus slipped out of his hiding spot and ambushed the young wizard.

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Back in Gryffindor Tower, Severus was sitting on one of the many plump couches in front of the roaring fire. He had grudgingly admitted to himself that perhaps this common room was nicer than the Slytherin's; it was certainly warmer and more comfortable. None of which did anything to improve his mood.

Things became worse when Harry and Ron tumbled playfully out of the doorway to their room, teasing each other, both joyful and full of laughter. They came to an abrupt halt in front of him and gave him a . . . dare he say it, _tender_ smile? Aside from Hermione, he could not recall the last time someone had smiled so sweetly at him. Again, not that it did anything to improve his mood. Peculiar night games present and accounted for, he was sure even with that knowledge of their apparently well-hidden thoughts of him that they would never smile so amiably if they knew that their dour Potions Master was trapped in the body of the friend they had thoroughly ravished the night before.

He cowered at their words, though he managed to keep his expression neutral.

"Seamus, mate! Want to play a game?"

"Here?" he asked, rather appalled, "In the middle of the common room?"

"Why not?" asked Ron, looking a bit confused, "you know everyone will want to join in anyway – we had so much fun last weekend."

Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled look. Something was up with Seamus. Perhaps the accident in Potions had made him ill; he certainly had not been up to snuff last night, although he was quite obliging.

"Everyone?" squeaked Severus. He cursed himself for his inability to keep this body's voice in a normal fathomless range.

"Yeah, well, maybe not Hermione. We can't seem to find her, but you know how much fun we had last weekend with that stuff your American Muggleborn cousin sent you. Why don't you go get it?"

When Severus made no attempt to get up, Harry quirked an eyebrow at him in a frighteningly accurate imitation of the Potions Master.

"Or I can get it. It's in your trunk, right, mate?"

Severus merely nodded. He had no idea what Harry was talking about, but since Seamus appeared to be a fairly tidy boy, if nothing else, he was sure any personal items would be in his trunk.

He remained where he was, staring into the fire, until Harry returned with what appeared to be a small pile of Muggle tablets and a handful of quills.

Severus looked cautiously at them, finding a series of goofy looking drawings looking back at him; well, not really – they were not Wizard drawings and therefore did not move, but he still found them rather disturbing. They were titled _Mad Libs, Cool Mad Libs, Monster Mad Libs_, and so forth.

"Do you want to go first?"

Severus shook his head.

"Okay, then I'll start just as soon as I round up a few more people. The more the merrier, you know?"

Severus managed a small smile. _'The more the noisier was more like it,'_ he thought in annoyance.

Soon, a glut of Gryffindors was seated around the common room waiting anxiously.

To Severus' relief, Harry went over the rules for anyone who had not been there last week or had forgotten. _'I never would have guessed,'_ mused Severus, _'that Potter and his cohorts spent any free time playing word games!'_

"Okay," said Harry, "I need an animal."

"Gnome!" called out Ginny. "What?" she questioned when people gave her a look, "Mum makes us weed them out of the garden just like other _animal_ pests!"

"Adjectives!"

"Spicy!"

"Greasy!" Severus winced a bit at Dean's word choice.

"Hot!

Harry was giggling by this point. "Okay, how about some nouns? Singular or plural, I'll work them in where they fit the best."

"Broomstick," came Ron's expected answer.

"Tower!"

"Wands!"

"You guys are so predictable!" whinged Harry.

"Cauldron" smirked Severus.

"Yes!" exclaimed Harry, now that's different from the usual!

Severus could not help but smile. Had he been in his own body, the sight of the dour man smiling would probably have terrified the first years, but here they just looked pleased to see their older housemate out of his grumpy mood.

"Okay, body parts!"

"Bollocks!"

Harry shook his head, trying to repress his laughter. Neville may have been one of the shiest of them outside the Tower, but here amongst friends he would say the most startling things sometimes.

"Nipple!" Colin volunteered with a slight blush.

"Hmmm . . ." Harry mused. "Okay, I need a _plural_ occupation, a verb ending in _ing_, an adverb, one more body part, and one more animal."

"Lion," called out Parvarti. _'Typical Gryffindor,'_ thought Severus.

"Aurors"

"Sexily," chimed in Lavendar.

"Finger"

"Singing"

Harry scribbled the last few suggestions down, set aside his quill, and looked up devilishly at his friends.

"The title of this mad lib is . . . _It's Magic!_"

There were groans and cat calls and much laughter.

Harry settled back, and began to read.

"_Ever since I was knee-high to a **gnome**, I have loved watching **Aurors** perform their **broomstick** tricks. If you've never seen a magician pull a **tower** out of a **cauldron** or catch a **singing** bullet in his **bollocks**, you've missed many of life's greatest **wands**. When I was seventeen, I gave **spicy** thought to becoming a slight-of-**finger** expert. I was desperate to prove the **nipple** is quicker than the eye. Unfortunately, I didn't have the **greasy** skills to do that. Today I satisfy my craving for magic by going to Las Vegas and watching Siegfried and Roy make a live **lion** disappear into **hot** air, and the casinos make my money disappear just as **sexily**."_

The occupants of the common room were laying on the floor, convulsing in fits of laughter. The Muggleborn students were gasping for breath while they explained the Muggle concepts to the Pure bloods in the room, making everyone laugh even harder. Lavendar slapped Parvati on the back, trying to clear up her burst of hiccoughs she had developed from trying to restrain her giggles.

Even though Severus was finding this particular form of word game beneath him, he found himself caught up in the humour of it all, laughing heartily with the rest of them. He found it cheered his spirits somewhat.

When Harry had recovered, he passed the book and a quill over to Neville.

"Everyone ready?" asked Neville after the room had quieted a bit.

Everyone nodded, though a giggle erupted here and there for a few moments.

"Let's see here," Neville pondered over the choices. Suddenly his lips quirked. "Aha! Okay, I need . . . the name of a person."

"Severus Snape!" called out Harry.

Severus struggled to maintain composure over his features.

Neville scribbled that down. "Occupation?"

"Potions Master, of course!" followed Ron.

Neville shook his head. "You two are incorrigible."

Severus was taken aback by that comment. _'Did everyone but Hermione know what was going on?'_

"Okay, nouns, people, several of them!"

"Wand"

"Whip"

"Potion"

"Stars"

"Sneak-a-scope"

"Blood"

"Cane"

Neville raised his hand. "Enough! Now we need a verb ending in _ing_."

"Bucking"

"And some adjectives?"

"Sweet"

"Subtle" said Severus.

"Colourful"

"Voraciously" announced Lavendar.

"That's an _adverb_, Lavendar," called out Colin.

"That's okay," said Neville, not wanting a fight to start, "we need two of those anyhow."

Lavendar stuck her tongue out at the younger boy and continued with, "lustfully."

"Tranquil," said Dean, going back to adjectives.

Neville looked over the pad. "Okay . . . now we need a colour, a body part and one number."

"Green," announced Severus, a bit of a smirk on his face.

"394," intoned Harry, in a voice snarky enough to rival the Potions Master.

Most of the seventh year boys laughed at this. "That's been your favourite number ever since Snape took over for Lupin that day in third year!"

Harry shrugged, but nodded in Ron's direction, a bit of a blush staining his cheeks.

Severus tried to recall what on earth – _'Merlin, I remember that. I got right up in his face, looming over him when he wouldn't turn his bloody book to page 394.'_ Severus sighed inaudibly. _'Bugger.'_

"And a body part, people!"

"Cock!" said several boys.

Neville grinned and marked it into the last blank.

"And we have _Snowboarding Instructions_."

"Everyone remember that from the magazine Seamus had in his trunk?"

Nods all around prompted Neville into reading the story. Severus, of course, had only nodded since the item apparently belonged to him. He decided to look for this magazine when he was safely alone. Preferably in a room that Harry and Ron would not be able to locate. Particularly at night.

"_Good morning, everyone, I am **Severus Snape**, your snowboarding **Potions Master**. How many of you have gone **bucking** before? Please raise your **wand**. None of you! Well, I feel I must warn you that while snowboarding is **sweet** fun, it is also a dangerous **whip** and is much more difficult than skiing. This may come as a **subtle **surprise to you. But take a **potion** to think about it. When you ski, your weight is **lustfully** distributed. You have one **cock** on each ski, helping you maintain your balance. Snowboarding requires you to keep both of your **stars** on a narrow **sneak-a-scope**. However, I promise if you are a **colourful** learner and pay **tranquil** attention, I will have you executing a **394-**degree **cane** grab within one **green** week."_

Much laughter again followed.

"Can you imagine Snape as a _snowboarding_ instructor?" called out Neville, "I'd have killed myself unintentionally while trying to follow his instructions!"

"Yeah, especially if it was right after first-year flying lessons," interjected Dean, "we thought you were a dead man for sure!"

"Yeah, and Hooch didn't even scare me . . . much," admitted Neville.

They all smiled at each other good naturedly. Severus was beginning to relax a little, sure the Headmaster was going to rescue him – there was several hours until evening anyhow, when the Gryffindor Head of House came in.

"Mr. Finnegan, the Headmaster would like to see you," she announced primly.

Severus nodded as the others and followed Minerva. "The password is 'vengeance is sweet'."

She left him at the gargoyle with this bit of information and strode away, evidently quite irritated about something or someone.

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Albus was not his usual cheerful self. "Severus, my dear, dear boy, Harry has informed me that he had a vision earlier today. The information he gave me makes me think you may be called soon."

Severus paled. "Hermione!"

"Yes, Severus, Hermione would be called in your place." Despite the graveness of the situation, Albus was secretly delighted that his harsh Potions Master had not even realized he was calling Miss Granger by her first name outside of his private chambers.

"What can we do? We don't know what combination of things caused this problem, we don't know how long it will last . . .she simply cannot face him, Albus, she would never pull it off."

"I agree, but it will be worse if you do not show. You need to teach her Occlumency. And soon. I'd say starting now would be quite wise indeed."

Severus nodded.

"You may floo down to your chambers through my fire place so that none of the Slytherins interfere with your arrival in the dungeons.

Severus nodded again, and with a sigh – floo powder was _not_ his preferred means of travel – threw his handful into the fireplace, stepped in, and called out, "Professor Snape's private rooms!" And with a crackle and a flash, he was gone.


	13. Preliminary Confessions

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

___Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

_Author's Note:_

_We've sneaked in some Rickman-relative quotes as well as some other literary -and-popular culture (tv)references. We would love to know if you catch any of them. Two are pretty obvious for devoted fans. _

Love MysticSlave

**Chapter Thirteen:** **Preliminary Confessions**

Seamus was just settling in for his first _conscious_ evening in the Head Girl's room when a furious rapping came at his door. Curious, Seamus slipped out of bed, enjoying that well-shagged aroma that lingered about him; despite the embarrassment of being caught with Draco, it had not hindered him from sneaking off with several other fine boys around the castle.

'_Who would have thought so many people desired Granger! Must be the badge . . .'_ so he put it in a place of honour – his cleavage, and moved to open the door before the rapping was so hard that the person on the other side bore a hole through the heavy oak.

'_Only Snape would probably be so callous_ _to be knocking, knocking at my chamber door this late in the evening,_'thought Seamus, his excitement rising at the thought of seeing the man again.

Much to his disappointment, he found his own Head of House standing at his threshold. A seriously irate frown marred her face.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I do believe, Miss Granger, that it is time for your punishment. And that is _Mistress_ to you."

"Erm?" was all Seamus could muster. "Isn't it a bit late for a detention?" he finally responded.

"_Punishment_," Miss Granger, "Not detention. And it is never too late, little miss, for a punishment. Bring your bag and clean robes; you shan't be returning to your chambers this evening."

Seamus definitely did _not_ like the sound of _this_, but hurried to do the older woman's bidding before she asked anything else of him. _'Goodness,'_ he mused, _'if I didn't know better, I'd say the old bird was jealous.'_

"Oh," she continued, "and do wash first, Miss Granger, you reek of a day-old-whore from Knockturn Alley. And believe you me, I know a few."

Seamus paused. That was an image he _definitely_ could have done without.

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Down in the dungeons, Hermione was pacing, frantically awaiting Severus' arrival. A well-placed detention here, a few points docked there, had given the boy known to everyone else as Seamus Finnegan, a completely appropriate reason for a late-night visit to the Potions Master's realms.

A soft knock at the door heralded the arrival of the quite putout Severus Snape. As soon as he was inside the room, Hermione swiftly re-warded the door and enacted a strong silencing charm.

Without a word, Hermione collected the lad into her arms and carried him to the couch.

"Oh, Severus," she murmured upon sitting down, "I am so sorry you have had to go through all this. Albus is a fool if he thinks we will escape without getting caught somewhere along the way."

Severus merely sat, his forehead resting against his own body's chest, the smell of himself mingled with something he had come to identify as Hermione, even if she was not physically present, calmed him once more.

"Ron and Harry did not . . . attempt to seduce you again, did they?"

Severus shook his head, face still hidden. "No," the words were muffled. "We played _Mad Libs_." Distaste for a silly Muggle's children game was evident, although Hermione thought she detected a hint of underlying amusement from the dour man.

"Well, that's good, at least."

Severus finally looked up. "What is it you are not telling me, Hermione?"

"I met with Albus this evening." She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly

in an attempt to calm her own racing heart. "He says that we cannot put it off any longer and that you simply must teach me Occlumency. That we cannot take the risk that Lord Vol – that he won't call you while we are still quite so intertwined with each other's lov – lives." Hermione blushed at her slip.

Severus looked up, a wry grin on his face. "I would say you were right on either count there, Hermione. I think I prefer yours over your friends, though I could have gone without ever knowing Minerva quite so intimately."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Severus. "Yes, well, as much as I have enjoyed intimidating students right and left while in _your_ body, the lack of such intimate knowledge is getting a little lonely."

It was Severus' turn to look askance at Hermione.

She blushed; the red tinge looking a bit odd on the sallow man's face. "Intimate knowledge of _others_, then, and let us do get started."

Severus raised both brows at this.

"With the Occlumency!" Hermione growled, setting Severus on his feet and rising to hers with a smooth, feline-like grace.

Severus had the decency to blush.

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Back in the Gryffindor Tower, Ron and Harry were pondering the fate of their friend.

"What do you suppose Snape was so mad at Seamus for?"

"Well he did cause an accident in Potions . . ."

"It was hardly his fault, and it isn't like it just happened . . ."

"Maybe something happened that we don't know about . . ."

"What can happen with Polyjuice gone wrong anyhow?"

Harry shook his head. "We need Hermione for that, and it's a bit too late to ask her tonight. We'll fetch her for breakfast in the morning." He yawned. "Coming to bed, Ron?"

Ron smirked.

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Draco strolled morosely through the halls, heading back towards his rooms, not bothering to dock points off anyone he came across in his travels, so sodden was his mind with the events that had come to pass.

'_I really must ask Professor Snape for some more Dreamless Sleep,'_ he mused. _'Or perhaps I could ask the Headmaster to obliviate me. That would help immensely. Although I would rather like to keep my new memories of Hermione. Who would have thought that Head Girl was so sexually voracious? I'm not even sure that I knew what that meant until today. Perhaps I'll be sexually voracious next week.'_ He smirked. _'It certainly has its perks!'_

Draco paused near the private rooms of his Head of House . . . perhaps he could acquire some Dreamless Sleep now; it would take far longer than Draco was capable of staying awake to argue the Headmaster into selectively obliviating him.

Few people knew that the Head of Slytherin was also Draco's Godfather. As such, he was capable of circumventing the regular wards on the man's private rooms without triggering alarms unless the wards sensed a notion to do harm.

As such, Draco was able to slip into the room quite undetected.

Only to be faced with Severus sitting quite comfortably on the couch while having what appeared to be a staring contest with Seamus Finnegan.

Draco's jaw dropped open. _'What the bloody hell is wrong with everyone?'_ Without a word, he quietly turned around and backed out of the room.

He would just have to use some old-fashioned methods to bring about sleep. _'Perhaps I could get a House Elf to knock me senseless. A solid cast-iron skillet should do the trick,'_ he thought, far too traumatized to consider _anything_ even remotely resembling sex.

Shaking his head at the absurdity of that thought, he sighed, and once more headed to his rooms.

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Seamus stood before the door to Professor McGonagall's private rooms, timidly raising a hand to knock. No sooner had his fingers touched the hard wood, did the door swing open. The professor's arm reached out and yanked the unsuspecting boy inside.

"Mmmmm, you smell _much_ better, Hermione," purred Minerva.

'_Shit!'_ Thought Seamus. _'She really doesn't know it isn't Hermione! How am I ever going to get out of this? I admit, fooling around in Hermione's body has been fun, but mucking around with this slutty old bint is **not** my idea of a good time!'_

Seamus shuddered as thin lips left dry kisses down his neck.

He stood stock still as Minerva began to peel his robes off, dropping them carelessly on the floor. Her own robes joined his, revealing to Severus just what a body stocking was. He decided he could have gone his entire life without knowing.

Wordlessly, he allowed himself to be drawn to the sofa, sure this was some elaborate hoax; surely Hermione was not a lover of Minerva! Minerva mistook his shudder for rapture and caressed Hermione's body with firm yet gentle strokes.

She apparently had yet to notice the fear in his eyes and probably would not have recognized it for what it truly was; Hermione was a _very_ good actress and was always up for any role the two decided to play out.

When Minerva moved to rob Seamus of his knickers, he couldn't take any more, and in a raspy voice, announced, "I think we should really stop this nonsense, Professor. Severus will be along any minute to rescue me."

Minerva quirked a brow. "Severus is going to _rescue_ you?"

"Well, yes," Seamus said, unknowingly digging himself deeper into the ground, "we're lovers, him and me."

Minerva was dumbfounded.

When she could speak again, she pressed forcefully into Seamus, bringing them face to face. "And just how many people are your lovers, here, _Miss Granger!_" The question came out as a low hiss; like that of a cat in torment.

Seamus futilely tried to back away. "Look, you slutty bint, I don't know what you think you're doing, but Severus is my lover and he _is_ going to come get me."

Minerva snorted, her face as red as her house colour. She repeated her question. No answer seemed forthcoming.

"Who else did you _fuck_ besides Draco?"

Gobsmacked at the older woman's foul mouth, Seamus cracked and gave in. "Draco, erm, Ron, Harry, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Dean, Ernie, Michael Corner, Morag MacDougal, Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and, erm, Terry Boot."

Minerva made a low sound in her throat that Seamus decided was a growl. _'Perhaps her animagus side is coming out?'_ he mused.

Quite abruptly, the woman stood up and drew her robes back into place. Seamus watched in horror as she moved over to a row of photos that seemed to contain an image of each year's students. The boys that Seamus had named shrank back in terror from Minerva as she tapped her wand to their frames and muttered something indistinguishable under her breath. She then moved to a row of faculty portraits and proceeded to do the same thing to the Potions Master.

When she was finished, she turned to face Hermione.

"That should take care of any mucking about! I have no more use of you for tonight. You can take your filthy self back to your rooms. I have no wish to see you again anytime soon."

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Back in the dungeons, Hermione suddenly curled up into a ball of pain on the sofa. It was quite an unbecoming look for the professor, and for a long moment, Severus was sure that Voldemort had summoned him. Hermione couldn't go after only a few hours of practice! Yes, the girl . .. young woman . . . picked up new skills incredibly fast, but it was too soon, too soon! Then he realized that Hermione was grasping something besides her left arm.

She jumped up when she felt his hand on her shoulder, and looked woefully into his eyes. Without a word of explanation, she flew upwards out of her ungainly position, nearly collapsing as all the blood rushed from her head, and raced towards the professor's loo, slamming the door behind her.

Seconds later, Severus heard a loud shriek.

Warily, he approached the door. "Miss… Hermione?" he called out.

The door was wrenched open; the dour man's trousers were on the floor. Hermione grabbed his upper arms and without any forewarning cried out, "Severus! Your bits are gone! Well, not that they are _bits_, but, you know . . . someone cursed your bits off!"

As they stared at each other in shock, the silence allowed them to hear similar shrieks from all over Hogwarts.

"It seems, at least," said Severus slowly, "that I was not the only target."

"Oh, yes, that makes it _all_ better," scoffed Hermione.

The dark humour of the situation rose in bubbles in Severus' throat. "Are you telling me that you're rather _fond_ of my wobbly bits?"

"Of course I am _fond_ of them, Severus, they have provided me with much enter . . . erm, I need them in order to take a leak! In case you have not noticed, I am as anatomically equipped as a Ken doll!

Severus then did something completely unexpected; he cautiously stepped forwards and ran his hands across Hermione's groin. True to words, it was as smooth as a doll. She jumped in alarm. "Do you _mind?_" she hissed.

Severus crossed his arms and smirked. "I just wanted to feel, Miss Granger; it is _my_ body after all."

"It may be your body, but _I_ am the one inhabiting at the moment, and _I_ am the one who felt your hands in a rather intimate location just now!"

Severus smirked again. "Fancy a trip to the Headmaster?"

"And tell him exactly what, Severus? Do you think he will want a visual?"

Severus had the grace to blush. "Well, knowing Albus, I suppose that is," he swallowed audibly, "possible," he conceded, "_but_," he continued, "the Headmaster does need to know. I know that were I in my rightful skin that I would not hesitate to inform him of such an atrocity to my person."

"Oh, yes," sneered Hermione, "couldn't lose your bits, they _were_ getting _so much_ use by you."

Severus scowled. "My personal life is not up for debate, nor discussion with you, Miss Granger."

Hermione scowled and awkwardly resituated her trousers. She steered Severus back out to the sitting room and pointed towards the couch.

"You stay there. I will be back as soon as I can."

Severus scowled, but did as Hermione instructed. Based on the sheer number of screams they had heard, he had a feeling it would not do for _Seamus_ to be seen in presence of the recently hexed Potions Master, particularly as it appeared he had not suffered. Something for which he was _most_ grateful.

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Hermione found herself standing in the corner of the Headmaster's office, surrounded by male students who were quite ashen-faced. Not one of them knew what had happened that would have caused this.

"Surely," mused the Headmaster, "there must be something that all of you did today that would have caused such an unusual curse to be placed upon all of you as well as Professor Snape."

Hermione schooled her face into a neutral expression, furious with Albus for reminding the boys that a teacher had also been so hexed.

"Is there anything unusual about your activities today? Anything you did that you do not usually do?"

The boys, even the Slytherins, turned rather red in the face. Apparently, they had met up in the halls on their way to see the Headmaster and come up to some conclusions.

Morag finally stepped forward. "We all," he said, gesturing at his fellow students, "shagged the Head Girl today at one point or another."

Hermione was gobsmacked and was hard put upon to keep her face blank. The tightening of her lips was the only indication of her inner rage.

Albus looked amused. His eyes twinkled dangerously when they looked at Severus.

"And you, sir?"

"I am quite certain that _I_ have not been sleeping with the students, Albus," she retorted. She said no more, although she wished to, for as Albus kept eye contact with her, she suddenly realised just how this hex had come about. They had not been _hexed_, they had been _transfigured_. She was going to kill Minerva!

Severus stepped forward, slipping through the students as they backed away from the angry professor.

"I will take care of this Albus. Send these unfortunates to Poppy for one of her _bladrificus totalis _charms. I do not know how long this will take."

Hermione swept out of the Headmaster's office, the intent to whip Minerva growing steadily stronger with each step she took.

A long silence filled the Headmaster's office.

"Bladrificus totalis?" ventured Terry.

Albus smiled benignly. "It is a charm to still your bladder so that you will not have the _urge_ while you are unable to relieve yourself.

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A very surprised Deputy Headmistress looked up when the door to her private chambers was nearly blown off its hinges by an extremely virulent _Alohamora!_

She gathered her wits about her and smirked at the irate Potions Master. "Yes, Severus?"

The man swept up to her where she lounged on the settee.

"Is there any particular reason you have chosen to transfigure my bits, Madam?"

Minerva raised a brow. "Why, Severus, I had no idea you could discern such a complex transfiguration from a standard grade hex. I must say I am impressed."

Hermione placed her hands on either side of Minerva's face, startling the older woman into silence. _'Severus never touches anyone,'_ she mused in bewilderment at the man's unusual behaviour.

"Just answer the question."

Minerva blushed. "Hermione informed me that the two of you were lovers and . . ."

"And you decided to protect your Head Girl by harming a colleague because you jumped to conclusions?"

Minerva dropped her eyes, intent on studying her hands that lay gracelessly in her lap.

"I . . . I suppose I was jealous," she said softly.

Hermione heard her.

She brought a hand under Minerva's chin and tipped the lady's face up so that they were looking at one another.

"Jealous?" whispered Hermione. "Of me?"

"Jealous of anyone that would touch Hermione . . . but particularly of you. I already knew she favoured her elders, and you are wise and handsome. Perhaps not classically handsome . . . but I am not classically beautiful and Hermione cares for me all the same."

Hermione sighed, and moving over slightly, dropped down bonelessly next to a surprised Minerva.

"Albus may kill me for telling you this, but I think he knows what I was up to in any case. I wanted to tell you from the start of this wild escapade, but he swore that what happened had to remain between Headmaster, professor, student, and Poppy."

"Wha -- ?"

Minerva was interrupted by a loud rapping that sounded throughout the chamber.

"Excuse me, Severus; someone is at my office door. You may come with me if you wish."

After a moment of hesitation, Hermione stood and followed Minerva out to the classroom.

Harry and Ron were outside of the Transfiguration classroom.

"And what are you two boys doing outside your dormitories so late?" asked Minerva in clipped tones.

They looked startled to see the Potions Master in their Head of House's room so late; startled with a hint of some other indefinable emotion that Hermione was fairly sure she did not care to decipher.

"We can't find Seamus anywhere!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yeah, we've looked all over for him," explained Harry, "but we haven't seen him since much earlier today."

"Your house-mate is in my office at the moment," drawled Hermione.

The three looked at him in some surprise.

"Is this what you came to see me about, Severus?" asked Minerva.

"Not exactly, but it is relevant to the problem overall."

There was a slight pause and then Harry asked, "Is he okay, sir? We sort of had plans for tonight."

Hermione felt deep sympathy for Severus at this new topic. "He is fine, Mr. Potter, but he will not be back tonight. He is serving detention with me and then has an appointment with the Headmaster."

The two boys looked terribly disappointed, but took their leave.

'_Git,'_ she heard Ron mutter under his breath. Harry admonished him, surprising Hermione even though she knew what the boys really thought of the Potions Master, but nonetheless, she called out, "Ten points, Mr. Weasley, for disrespecting a professor."

After that, there was silence.

Hermione turned back towards Minerva who had slowly shut the door to her office. She stood for a moment and then faced Severus.

"What is the overall problem, then, Severus?"

"Well," she drawled, "_by and large_ I would have to say it is the absence of part of my body and I sincerely wish for you to transfigure it back properly. Immediately."

Minerva paled. "I cannot."

"What the bloody hell do you mean, woman?"

"It is . . . a new field in which I have been working. Time-based transfiguration; it will take a week and then undo itself without any prompting from myself."

Hermione sighed. "I know for a fact that you did this to quite a number of students. I would never have believed you capable of harming your students, Minerva, particularly your beloved little cubs."

Minerva sighed. "Love makes you do the wacky."

Hermione raised an eyebrow but did not comment.

Instead, she coldly replied, "I have it on good faith that Hermione had nothing to do with any other student or person besides you, Minerva."

"And just how exactly would you know that Severus? I had it from her lips."

"You've watched me grow up as a student and been my colleague since I graduated, were witness to the incident with Moody during Hermione's fifth year and yet you did not once consider the possibility of Polyjuice?"

Minerva paled a bit. "Polyjuice?"

"It was, in fact the potion that she and Harry were working on when the original accident occurred. Did you not in fact notice anything peculiar about her at that time?"

Minerva's brow furrowed in thought. "What are you suggesting, Severus? Polyjuice wears off; the person must continuously imbibe it for it to work. Even _I_ know that much."

"Pure Polyjuice, yes, but this potion was mistakenly combined with two others before it was completely brewed."

"Hermione would never make such an error."

"I am not implying that she did, Minerva, I am simply stating what _happened_. The potion then exploded all over Hermione and myself. We woke up much later in the infirmary." Hermione leaned forward so that her face was inches from the older woman's. "Min, in this castle, you should never _assume_ anything."

Minerva sank onto a nearby chair. "Only Hermione has ever called me Min." She didn't seem to realise she had spoken a loud until a comforting hand settled on her shoulder.

"I know, Min, I know." Hermione gracefully kneeled next to her Head of House. "I've been living in Severus' body ever since that accident."


	14. Lord of the Dance

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

_Author's Note:_

_Any Buffy fans reading this? If you are – re-read chapter 13, and check everything Minerva says and see if you catch what we're referencing! There's a few pop-culture (old and new) bits in this chapter. We'd love to see if you find them!_

_Love MysticSlave_

**Chapter Fourteen: Lord of the Dance**

It was a rather disgruntled Potions Master that levitated the Deputy Headmistress to the infirmary that evening. After staring blankly at Hermione for a few moments, her face went slack and she passed out. Hermione was rather amused until the woman's skin turned the colour of her own. She was still breathing, her heart still pumping away, but Hermione did not wish to risk her beloved's health over the matter. At least Poppy knew what had originated in this odd swapping of lives over the past several months and could be trusted not to inform anyone about this new development. Outside, perhaps, of the Headmaster in any case. She supposed that they could tell anyone that saw Minerva that Severus had been quite vexed at being transfigured by some woman's whim and he had replied in kind. A rather unfair wizard's duel, she declared silently.

In the infirmary, she found the other recipients of Minerva's _delightful_ new transfiguration experiment tucked into beds for the evening and sleeping soundly. Hermione had cast the charm that the boys were all under by herself as she had faired no better from Minerva's silly wand waving. She had had no desire to inform Poppy what had happened to Severus' body that evening.

Sticking her head in the medi-witch's office, she indicated that she would need a private room for the Deputy Headmistress, and with a sigh, one which Poppy could not determine to be relief or annoyance – perhaps a bit of both – Hermione settled the older woman into a bed and told Poppy she would be back to check on her in the morning.

"Do not," she informed the over-worked medi-witch, "let her leave or talk to anyone about anything for any reason until I've had a chance to speak privately with her first."

Poppy nodded and Hermione stepped into the infirmary's fireplace and flooed to Severus' room where the boy . . . man . . . was still waiting for her.

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"Where have you been?" exclaimed Severus. He seemed quite agitated.

"_Escorting_ your Head of House to the infirmary after she passed out when I made one teeny, tiny confession to her," Hermione countered, face blank.

Severus scowled. "You shocked Minerva into . . . into a _dead faint_ and I _missed it_?"

Hermione cracked a grin. "Well, it isn't like I knew what was going to happen when I walked out of here. Besides, you should be glad you were not in the vicinity of the good professor when it happened as your two . . . rather, desperate, shall we say, housemates, came looking for you."

"What did you tell them?"

"That you were serving detention which would be followed by a meeting with the Headmaster and it was quite unlikely that you would return to your room this evening."

Severus released the breath he had been holding. "Thank you, for that Hermione."

She nodded. "Now, get going. Albus will be expecting you."

"And you continue to practice your Occlumency. I just have a bad feeling that something is going to happen and soon."

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Severus sat facing Albus with a worried look on his face. Albus was his usual over-cheery self, however, and offered Severus a lemon drop, a cup of tea, a cockroach cluster, a licorice wand, and a number of other candies before Severus growled, "I am not here for boiled sweets, Albus, get the bloody hell on with it!"

Albus smiled at his dear Severus. "I assume that you have initiated lessons with Hermione?"

He nodded. "Yes, she has taken to it like she does everything else, sir."

"Her residency in your body may have something to do with it as well." He paused. "And how are you fairing after Minerva's . . . latest lesson in Transfiguration?"

"I am quite certain that _I_ have not been sleeping with the students, Albus," he retorted, unknowingly mimicking Hermione's words from earlier.

"Ah, but you have, Severus."

Severus' face turned red. "Not by choice, Albus, _never_ by choice, and I resent you implying that I would. Particularly as it involved the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio. I am scarred for life."

Albus quirked a brow.

Severus sighed, grumbled, and then relented, although he was sure the meddling old coot was fully aware of any and all activity that surrounded his _precious_ Potter. "Not only was I _accosted_ and forced into relations with Potter and Weasley, but Potter dressed himself up to look like me! It was _awkward and incredibly **disturbing! **_I will not suffer them again, Albus. Get me my own room or I shall take up residency in my _real_ rooms and let everyone think what they will. As far as I can tell, it would not be out of character for Mr. Finnegan." This last bit said with a sneer.

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The week progressed very slowly for the unfortunates that had endured the "Wrath of McGonagall." Hermione was quite worried about the ill effects of the charm they were all under while they had no means in which to relieve themselves, until Poppy assured her that she had done studies on this charm and it truly stilled _everything_; that they would not risk developing kidney stones or bladder infections, or other related illnesses.

Hermione continued to practice Occlumency on her own and during her evenings with Severus.

Severus. Therein lay another twist of the threads of fate. Albus had refused, from what Hermione could gather, to remove Severus from the Tower, and Severus, quite unwilling – and with good reason – to risk being accosted by Ron and Harry once more, snuck Finnegan's trunk down to the dungeons one evening through the tricky paths that the students were unaware of, and took up residency in his private office. Albus claimed ignorance of the matter to Harry and Ron and told them it was not his job to keep track of a lost housemate and to take it up with their Head of House. Having heard what happened to the last group that crossed their Head, but not the precise reason for it, they chose to let the matter go for the time being. One would think Albus was still bitter of the discovery of what Argus Filch did with his spare time.

Hermione insisted that Severus be discreet; she certainly did not want anyone to think she was inappropriately entertaining Seamus. It might make her a hypocrite, but she was sure that Severus would not care to have his reputation tarnished when he had his own body back.

Must keep the "students will fear me" guard up at all cost.

The end of the week brought good and bad tidings. In the middle of Potions class that Friday, a peculiar look came over Malfoy's face before he dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Hermione was sorely tempted to make some sort of scathing remark; Severus was not presently in the room and she was sure she could make less of it should he get wind of what she said. However, before she could open her mouth, Malfoy rocketed upwards and without a glance at his worktable, raced out of the classroom as if the Hounds of Hell were after him. Hermione had just cast a containment charm over the boy's cauldron when a searing sensation raced through her groin. Fighting the urge to collapse; weakness in front of the students would never do, she commanded, "Cast containment charms over your cauldrons and get out! We will continue this in your next lesson. Class is over!"

The instant the last student had exited, Hermione raced for Severus' private loo. Evidently, when the transfiguration undid itself, the bladder charm expired. She sincerely hoped no one had been in flying class.

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That night revealed further distress for Hermione. Seated on her sofa, she was enjoying a strong cup of tea with Severus when pain raced through her arms. It startled her so that she flung the cup over her head where it crashed to the floor.

Startled, Severus nearly did the same before his senses took over and he placed his own cup gently on the table. A quick _reparo_ fixed Hermione's cup. He reached over and tipped her face up to meet his.

"Don't tell me Minerva jinxed you again?"

Hermione shook her head, her eyes wide with fear, and, never taking her eyes off his, rolled up her left sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark, burning black against her sallow skin.

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Hermione appeared on the edge of a clearing in the middle of nowhere, Death Eater cloak and mask firmly in place. Her lips still tingled from where Severus had surprised them both by drawing her out of Dark Mark-induced stupor by kissing her. With a nervous heart but occluded mind, she Apparated from his usual point of departure into a dark grove. Gathering her wits about her, and unconsciously shifting her face into a blank expression, she strode into the Inner Circle as Severus had instructed, and dropped to her knees before the creature known as Voldemort. With one smooth motion, she brought the hem of his cloak to her lips for a chaste kiss of servitude, whispering, "My Lord," as she stood and backed away into her place beside Lucius Malfoy.

The red eyes tracked her movement but no commentary seemed forthcoming. Lucius leaned over to her and whispered into her ear, "You're in for a special treat tonight, Severus. A _very_ special treat."

Hermione's heart sank. _'Please, oh, please, not a Dark Revel!' _She was all too familiar with what they entailed from her experience at the Quidditch Match she had attended with Harry and the Weasley's her fourth year, as well as from Harry's many nightmares where he had actually witnessed a number of them take place. _'At least,'_ she mused, _'They never make him . . . me . . . actually participate except as a brewer, and I can brew just as well as Severus . . . of course if they ask for some unheard of illegal potion I may be in a spot of trouble.'_ Her outward appearance, however, revealed no signs of her inner turmoil, and she simply nodded to Lucius, but did not reply.

A low cackling brought her attention to the matter-at-hand and she realised the horrid sound was coming from the skeletally thin reptilian-like man that some called Master.

"It has come to my attention," Voldemort announced, "that a certain one of us has missed far too many of our regular entertainments. That simply cannot do; we shall rectify that this evening."

'_Bugger!' _thought Hermione. _'We're done for. There is no way I can do anything in a Revel. Harry said it's rape, pillage, burn. I can't rape! I don't know how it works! And I'm not definitely not a pillage-type of girl. Or burn. Well, no, maybe I can do the burning. I did set a certain someone's robes on fire during my first year, after-all.'_ Hermione's self-rambling musings cut off abruptly.

A crooked finger beckoned in a come-hither gesture to Hermione. Hesitantly, she stepped forward and went to bow down before the one she served . . . she was going to get what she deserved . . . she was _so_ out of luck.

However, as she started to bend downwards, Voldemort held out a hand for her to take. Gingerly, she did so. The instant they clasped hands, a festive jaunty tune began, seemingly out of nowhere.

Voldemort smiled. It was far scarier than that first smile Hermione had seen in the mirror after taking up residency in Severus' body. _'Snakes were not meant to smile,'_ she thought.

Voldemort stood, bowed, and stepped up to meet his Potions Master.

Peter Pettigrew, the traitorous rat, stepped forward, fiddle in hand, and called out the words that would begin Hermione's nightmare.

"Choose yo' partners fo' de Verginny reel!"

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Several hours later found Hermione still dancing. With Voldemort, with Malfoy, even, Merlin help her, Crabbe and Goyle. They were surprisingly agile and light on their feet though they smelled abominably; more so, even than their sons. A tough feat, mused Hermione, as she had days where she wondered if they even knew what soap and water were for or if they simply wore the same robes day in, day out. Perhaps she could pose a veiled question to young Mr. Malfoy. Certainly, the seventh year boys who suffered as their dorm mates would appreciate someone forcing them into a good scrubbing.

At least Snape's body was in remarkable condition and she was not yet winded, even though she had learned not only the Virginia Reel, but the Galway Reel, the Cor na síóg, the Haymakers Jig, the Kerry Dance, the Canary, the Roving Robin, and, oh, dear, Bellatrix was requesting a dance . . . another one she did not know. Bellatrix leaned in, giving her an ample view of her cleavage, eyes sultry and beckoning. She hoped Rodolphus was not the jealous type.

"Surely you can manage the English Tango," she whispered in Hermione's ear. "You are so . . . agile, so graceful . . . one might be tempted to call you effeminate if they were not wise to your ways, my dearest Severus."

Bellatrix may have been a beautiful woman, but she was pure evil. The grievous hurt she had caused Harry in their fifth year had left a smoldering hatred for the _witch_ in Hermione's breast.

In the vague recesses of her troubled mind, she heard a rhythmic _thump . . . thump_ in time with the sensually provocative music that Pettigrew was playing on a violin; evidently transfigured out of the fiddle and accompanied by Malfoy on a white baby grand piano. She turned her face briefly from Bellatrix's svelte form to see that Voldemort himself was keeping time with a majestic staff. The beat was crazy; by happenstance, it would coincide with the rhythm of the night, but it was rare. No one would dare question the blackguard about his tempo.

Hermione watched him with an amused expression. She wondered if she could convince Severus to concoct a potion for the sole purposes of coating Voldemort's music staff; then they'd just have to get him off-guard enough during one of their . . . musical numbers . . . so that he would stab himself in the foot like that moronic seventeenth century composer, Jean-Baptiste Lully had done. Of course, that fool had contracted gangrene from his misfortune, but Hermione was confident that Severus could create something far nastier for the Dark Lord.

A cold hand wrapped around her chin, drawing her attention back to the slag in front of her. While Hermione's attention was distracted, Bellatrix had acquired a rose that was nestled between her garishly red lips; she obviously did not mind that the thorns of the flower were piercing her lips, sticking into her gums. Hermione frowned at the sight of it. Her strong sense of smell was feeling quite abused by this point in the evening. "You have a spot there," she murmured to Bellatrix, nodding at the blood dribbling down her jowls.

She smiled at the Potions Master; a smile that would scare the life out of near anyone who saw it. "Master likes it that way," she cooed. Hermione had to refrain from shuddering.

Even without the benefit of a pocket watch, Hermione knew that she had been in the orchard for hours. Severus must be worried sick wondering what had happened to her.

She had just finished another waltz with Malfoy when there seemed to be a great bustling of activity near Voldemort's portable throne. She suddenly felt the long platinum hair of Lucius tickling her neck as the handsome, aristocratic man leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"_Wait until you see this, Severus," he murmured gleefully. "It is like nothing you have ever seen before."_

Hermione raised a brow in Lucius' direction.

"_You will see, my friend, you will see. It is Tom's favourite hobby. Well, that, and he does love knitting."_

It was only the explicit skill of Severus' body not to provide any facial movement no matter how stunning information may be, that kept Hermione from a rather inappropriate visual reaction to what Lucius had just told her. She had been quiet worried when she had been instructed to take off her mask several hours ago, but between Severus' facial cleverness and her talent for learning new things – Occlumency in this case – her worry was for naught.

Voldemort suddenly stood tall in front of his loyal Inner Circle. Even in this sickly form, he possessed an innate grace and poise that commanded attention. He flung his robes wide open to present himself. He was garbed in a loose fitting black silk shirt and, Hermione gulped inaudibly, tights. And a codpiece. It was far, far, _far_ too small. She was really going to have to get Albus to obliviated that particular memory, if not the entire evening.

A moment of silence, and then the Death Eaters that were more familiar with this . . . closing act . . . began clapping in uniform rhythm. It sounded unmistakably Celtic to Hermione, and she was proven right when the Dark Lord, someone she perceived to be one of the scariest people . . . creatures alive (although the alive bit was debatable from what Harry had told her), throw himself into a clean, precise and . . . dare she say it . . . _beautiful_ Irish Jig. Hermione stared. There was no doubt about it.

Lord Voldemort was a fan of Riverdance.

_Author's Footnotes:_

Cor na síóg in English would be called _The fairy reel._ Jean-Baptiste Lully was in fact a real composer in the French Courts, and, yes, that is really how he died.

If you are unfamiliar with the dances, please visit our website (link available in MysticSong1978's profile). There's a link in the middle of the first page that says 'Mystic's Art, etc' - go there for eFiction art and extras!


	15. Aftermath

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

**Chapter Fifteen: Aftermath**

Severus was pacing his private chambers, worry furrowing his brow. Not that he would admit it if anyone asked. Albus, that is; no one else would dare; no one else would know to ask in any case, well, aside from Minerva and she was still out cold in the Infirmary. That thought made him snicker, but worry overcame him again and he continued to pace. Hermione had been gone for _hours_. She was a good student; one of his best. She had learned Occlumency far easier and faster than anyone else he knew; certainly much faster than _Potter _had done; the prat.

'_Where could she be? I never stay for this long unless . . . Merlin's bollocks, do not tell me that the one time Hermione is summoned by the Dark Lord she has to participate in a Revel! She will never forgive me.'_ Not that Severus particularly felt he deserved forgiveness for anything he had done and he did not want to contemplate why he would care if Hermione harboured ill will towards him. He was friendless; the snarky, greasy bat of the dungeons. No one liked him and that was just fine. _'You like Hermione,'_ spoke his inner voice. "Shut up." He was in no mood for this. "Friendship is of no need to me," he murmured, "it only causes pain. I disdain the _love_ and _laughter_." He shook his head. Severus might convince others, but in his own heart, he knew he truly cared.

He was just about to head down his personal secret passage out of the castle that Albus had transfigured for him to escape out of the castle unnoticed for his summonings, when passageways door slid opened from the other side to reveal Hermione.

He was quite glad that Albus had warded his personal entrance with his own special version of the Fidelus Charm. It did not require another person. As soon as Severus stepped through the door to answer a summons, he forgot where the door was. When he returned to the castle, and only if he were alone, he would remember where it was. Polyjuice, invisibility potions, notice-me-not charms, nor any other trickery would not fool Albus' magic. Thus, he knew without a doubt that this was indeed his . . . _'Your what, Severus?'_ He did not bother to think that through.

She appeared to be all in one piece. The Death Eater mask was clenched in one fist, her face expressionless until she saw him. Something flickered in her eyes for a moment and then was gone once again.

"Hermione?"

A stilted nod. "_Professor_." This with a sneer.

'_This is not good!'_ "Back to formalities, are we then?"_ Miss Granger_ was on the tip of his tongue, but something kept him from speaking it aloud. Unconsciously he knew it would only make things worse.

Hermione stomped through the doorway into the private chambers and flung herself on the bed.

'_I look like a foolish child like that,'_ mused Severus inanely. _'Remind me never to do that if I get my life back.'_ He was beginning to think he would be forever trapped in someone else's life. If he had kept Hermione's body, perhaps it would not be such a terrible thing; Seamus, however, was another story. One that came with horrific tidings he could surely do without; unless perhaps he was obliviated.

Severus gingerly climbed into his bed and sat next to Hermione. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, with the remembrance of how she had soothed him, began to rub circles on her back. "Hermione? What happened? You were gone an excruciatingly long time."

She turned her face towards him in wonderment. She knew that it was as close as he would probably ever come to admitting that he had missed someone. The thought that he would miss someone he had harangued over the years for various infractions, both real and imaginary, made her smile. It lit the Potion Master's face and took years off his age.

"Tell me what happened."

"It was a revel, Severus."

He paled and his hand stilled shortly while he mulled over the implications. "I am truly sorry, Hermione, but am relieved that you were able to fool the Dark Lord. What did he have you brew?"

"Nothing."

"You did not brew any potions for the revel?"

Hermione shook her head as best as one is able to when lying flat on a bed. "I _participated_ in it. He said he realised one of his number had not enjoyed a revel in a long time and, well, so now you have."

Severus cringed. "What did you have to do?"

Hermione mulled over the evening. "The Virginia Reel, the Fairy Reel, the . . ." she paused when Severus held up a hand.

"Wait, wait . . . those sound like . . . _dances_." _'Was she taking the Mickey?'_

"Precisely."

"Are you sure you went to the right place?"

She raised a brow. "Is there more than one red-eyed, snake-like monster slithering around dark groves in the middle of the night trying to kill off all but the pure blooded?"

Severus sighed. "Fine. I just . . ." _'Had Voldemort been drinking?' _"I have never participated in _anything_ even resembling such behaviour."

Hermione looked curiously at him. "But Voldemort only insinuated that it had been a long time that you had been absent – not that you had _never_ participated!"

Severus shook his head. "I _have_, but never with just the Inner Circle which is what you must have been with tonight. Lucius implied once that the Inner Circle enjoyed more . . . secular entertainment, but I cannot say that is what came to _my_ mind; especially knowing his penchant for cruelty."

Hermione just looked at him.

"You actually danced?"

"Yes, Severus. With Voldemort, no less. And Lucius, and _Bellatrix_. It was all I could do not to hex that . . . _witch_ when I had to _tango_ with her. I am glad your body remembered the moves even without you inhabiting it. Just why do you know all those jigs and reels and such?"

"Pureblood traditions decree that all children must in fact be able to carry out each and every dance move that may or may not come into play at any given gathering. Ask any of your friends when you are back in your body, Hermione."

"That was not all I learned tonight, Severus."

He quirked a brow, silently asking her to continue while fearing the worst.

"_Tommy boy_," Severus winced, "has a wonderful hobby. It involves sharp needles. Long, sharp, pointy needles."

Severus shuddered. "Yes?" his voice cracked in his worry over whatever new tortures the rapscallion had invented.

"Evidently, along with dancing, he simply _loves_ to knit."

There was a long pause and then Severus burst into a fit of giggles, which soon became hysterical as he tried in vain to breathe as his face turned redder and redder.

Hermione lurched upright and brought her face close to his. "Breathe!" she commanded. At least that was her intention. However, as she leaned forward and began to speak, Severus also rocked forward in another burst of mirth and their faces collided with a resoundingly solid kiss.

Surprise was evident on both their faces as they back-pedalled on the bed, trying to regain some sense of equilibrium.

Two suddenly blank faces stared at each other in a mutual horror for a several-second long eternity. Then, Hermione began to snicker, quickly followed by Severus. The snickering became cackles, as both parties grew hysterical over what had happened. Before they knew it, they were holding each other, laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces.

"Can you believe –"

"You kissed — "

"_I?_ No, that was _you_!"

"No, see, it was most assuredly you, Miss Hermione. Allow me to demonstrate."

And with that statement firmly in place, Severus leaned forward and pecked her on the lips . . . his own lips, if he were honest with himself, but he thought perhaps it was best not to think about _that_ at the moment.

He drew back slightly and looked up at his own face. "See?"

Hermione wore a confused look on her face; it gave a pure sense of humanity to the man's face that was rarely seen by anyone – even the Potions Master himself, and he stared in wonderment.

Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned forward and time seemed to still as she drew closer and closer to the smooth lips she saw before her. The visage of Seamus was in the peripheral of her mind but all she saw before her was _Severus_. She never had imagined being in this position where she anticipated soundly and thoroughly kissing any man, much less _this_ man who had made many years of her student life a living hell – but she had grown to know the man behind the mask he wore and found him . . . caring, intelligent, funny, . . . _human_. She traced his lips with her eyes, their smoothness, their assured softness . . . how she _wanted_ to feel them against her own.

Severus was entranced by his own dark eyes; the bleakness gone; no longer like two fathomless tunnels, but rich dark pools where a faint but strong light flickered. He lowered his gaze to Hermione's lips – for now he saw his own body in the background and it was replaced by the soft lips of Hermione's; lips he remembered quite well from the weeks he had lived in her body. He knew how soft, how delicate those lips were . . . and suddenly they were touching; testing, tasting lips.

There was a brief pause where Hermione expected him to reach up and shove her forcefully away, perhaps off the bed; instead his arms hesitantly came up around her body and pulled her closer.

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Minerva woke suddenly to find herself staring at a sterile, white ceiling. She could not reason out why she would be in the infirmary . . . but then it came to her.

Hermione. Her dear, sweet Hermione, had been trapped into Severus' body for months now, and all this time that she had been with her love, it had been _Severus_. He had been forced – no doubt by the meddling Headmaster – into the role, forced into receiving advances from a mentor and a friend, advances she was sure were abhorrent to the poor man who could barely handle a gentle touch of comfort the few times he was cared for by Poppy. And most recently? She had cursed a number of students for their actions with Hermione. True, it was still the girl's body, even if her spirit had not been inside of it. She should have known it was not Hermione. Seamus was the only Gryffindor that had that incorrigible streak in him to bugger anything that moved. What had she done? What had Albus done? She would bloody kill him.

Grumbling, Minerva flew out of the bed, only to trigger those blasted alarms that Poppy set on her patients.

Seconds later, Poppy flew out of her office to find Minerva bustling her way out of the Infirmary.

"Minerva!" she hissed.

"I must go, Poppy. I am feeling quite fine, thank you."

Poppy held back a snicker. "Perhaps you would prefer to leave in your own robes?"

Startled, Minerva looked down and realised she was wearing the standard, un-attractive, and backless hospital gown that seemed to dominate the healing world of Wizard and Muggle alike.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!"

With a quick flick of her wand, Poppy was holding the gown and Minerva was once more firmly ensconced in her emerald green robes.

Poppy smiled to herself. The Headmaster was in for a rude awakening. Minerva may have been Gryffindor, but her revenge was cunning and ruthless enough to make any Slytherin proud.

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Hermione and Severus were spooned against each other, cocooned in soft warmth that had been missing from their lives as of late.

As Hermione's mind swam to consciousness, for a brief moment she believed herself to be at her parent's house, under the comforting weight of her electric blanket; an item she often wished she could charm into working in the Magical world. Heating charms were nice, but sometimes one just needed a blanket. An electric blanket made it all the better.

Then her vision cleared and she realised that she holding the smaller form of Seamus Finnegan in her arms. She blinked, trying to assess why in the world she . . . and then she remembered that she was still in the Potion Master's body and it was in fact Severus that was curled up beside her, still trapped in the Irish boy's body.

_Bugger_.

Hermione slowly stretched, trying not to wake her bed mate.

She gave up all intention of consideration when her stretch revealed a heretofore unnoticed pain in her bum.

"Bugger!" she swore aloud. Even with no prior experience, there was _no_ mistaking that feeling.

Severus had buggered himself.

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear it of all the thoughts and implications that came with them. She found herself humming, "I am My Own Grandpa," even though that song was a wholly different situation.

Her mutterings stirred Severus out of his slumber.

He smiled to himself as he came to; knowing subconsciously that he had just had the best night of sleep that he had had in years. _Why_ that would be was made abundantly obvious when his stretching brought his borrowed body into fully skin-on-skin contact with the person in bed behind him.

"Bugger!"

"You can say that again," said Hermione dryly. "Except that I believe I was on the receiving end of that _particular_ action.

Severus felt his cheeks heat as an incriminating blush stained his face.

"Bugger."

"And I thought Harry had a limited vocabulary when it came to expressing one's feelings.'

Severus simply shook his head as he simultaneously buried his face in the pillow.

He had spent the night quite intimately with a student who was currently living in his body. He had spent the night being intimate with _himself!_

Things could not _possibly_ get any worse.


	16. Father Time, That Insufferable Git

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

**Chapter Sixteen: Father Time, That Insufferable Git**

Hermione was sitting in her office, hands against her face as spasms wracked her lower body. _'Lucky me,'_ she muttered to herself, _'weeks, months even, of irritable bowel syndrome and not one of the potions I've brewed has done a thing for it.'_

She loathed the thought of going to see Poppy over this. Even though the medi-witch knew that Hermione was still living inside of Severus' body, the entire situation was still a bit too ludicrous and unfathomable for Hermione to deal with. Although it was a new problem for Severus' body, as far as she knew, it was something she had dealt with regularly with her period and some part of her hoped that perhaps this meant that the potion was wearing off and she was beginning to be susceptible to physical problems that she, as Hermione Granger, would be facing soon. Logically she reasoned that could not be the truth.

Why? While she and Severus had spent equal amounts of time in another person's body, Seamus was new to the equation. If the potion was time-released, it had not been near long enough for Seamus to be released from _her_ body. It was truly too bad that Neville's inventions were all products of such disastrous accidents that no one would ever be able to determine what precisely had caused this new creation; it was actually rather useful . . . if the making of could be discovered so that an antidote was readily available.

She sighed again as her insides twitched and jumped intermittently; a cold sweat trickled down her chest, soaking the fine Victorian shirt in which she was clad.

'_Perhaps one more trip to the loo will suffice before it is time for breakfast,'_ she thought miserably, wishing she could get her hands on some Imodium AD; sometimes Muggle medicine really did the best job.

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Severus slipped silently into the Great Hall; he had kept up with his _friendship_ of Ron and Harry despite the fact that the Headmaster had officially moved him out of Gryffindor Tower, citing nonsensical reasons, typical of Albus, to the two boys, and giving them severe consequences were they to enquire further reasons from Seamus himself.

He had been sleeping easier apart from the two boys, although he found himself wondering what Miss G . . . Hermione had been up to ever since _that night_. They never told Albus what had transpired; neither the unexpected frolicking of the Death Eaters nor what had passed afterwards. Severus had the sinking feeling that the Headmaster already knew and was simply waiting for one of them to come forward while he waited gleefully like a child awaiting the summer hols, but was not about to broach the subject.

Reasonably, he knew that Albus would not and could not find fault in the night of passion the two had shared all those weeks ago. Not with all the other . . . relationships that were carried out in the _hallowed_ halls of Hogwarts.

Still, he kept his silence; both from Albus, and oddly, from Hermione. They still met for Seamus' supposed detention that had been set for the period of indefinite, and the real Seamus, now in Hermione's body, had been released from her Potions Apprenticeship until further notice. Minerva was not as delighted as he would have assumed she would be until he found out that the cat, so to speak, had been let out of the bag, and while the Deputy Headmistress might have been missing her lover, knowing that Seamus was currently the one residing in her body was not nearly as tempting.

Severus resigned himself to knowing that the horror that Seamus must have felt when he too was first cajoled into some sort of indecent, in his eyes, intimate positioning with the older professor, would have to be punishment enough for Seamus' actions in the classroom that had brought this latest body-switching about.

He fiddled with his breakfast, not really seeing it, not really feeling hungry. Truthfully, he was feeling a bit ill. His coffee, a drink that warmed his heart and woke him from his morning stupor, tasted burnt as of late, yet Dean, one of the few boys at the table who shared his liking for coffee, said it tasted fine to him. Severus could not find fault with the preparation of it nor the other boy's opinion, for Dean was as persnickety as he was in regards to coffee, thus he hoped that it was Seamus' soul slowly feeding its way back into his body. Perhaps Seamus was not a coffee person; they did not usually serve coffee to students, so his dorm mates would have no reason to know whether he was or not, thus they had nothing to base his wavering tastes on.

'_Please, Merlin, please let this nightmare of a life be coming to an end. I cannot stomach much more of this.'_

Severus sat upright with a jolt as he felt a comforting hand on his back. He turned to see Harry watching him carefully. He knew from his time in Hermione's body that despite the faults the boy may have, or that Severus assumed he had, Harry was truly very caring, especially towards those he considered friends.

"Are you all right, Seamus? You look a little pale this morning."

Severus shook his head, and then nodded, to indicate it was a bit of feeling all right, and truthfully, being a bit ill. "I don't know what is wrong with me, Harry. Overall, I feel okay, yet I feel a bit clammy and my coffee hasn't tasted right to me for days."

Harry frowned. "Maybe you have a cold. I think that changes the way flavours taste. You should go see Pomfrey before classes start. Come, I'll go with you. I need to talk with her anyhow."

Severus sighed wearily, but accept Harry's offer. For whatever reason, he did not want to confront Hermione over this new development. She had enough on her mind these days anyhow. Draco had developed a nervous tick after his detention that night all those weeks ago. Hermione never expanded on that, and Draco was not willing to share any details either, but he required a lot of unexpected care from the person he believed to be his Head of House. Hermione, he was proud to see, handled it with dignity and grace.

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-

"Mr. Potter! What are you doing here so early in the morning? Even you couldn't have injured yourself already!"

Harry chuckled. "No, I brought Seamus to see you. He isn't feeling well and I thought maybe he had a cold. I was also interested in talking about the apprenticeship you mentioned. You're right, the more I thought about it, I really don't want to spend my life being an Auror, and as Hermione put it, I do have a 'saving-people-thing' so a career in Medi-Wizardry has begun to sound very appealing.

Madam Pomfrey smiled delightfully at him. "Let me check Mr. Finnegan over, and then we can sit down for a chat before your classes start."

She directed Severus over to a bed, where she had him lay down before she began running scans over his body. A frown crept across her face as a bluish-pink light rose up from his general abdominal area.

"Seamus doesn't have a cold; I'm afraid his . . . symptoms are bit more serious than that. Mr. Potter, I am afraid our discussion will have to wait; I need to have a private chat with your friend right away."

Harry's eyes widened in alarm. "All right, Madam Pomfrey," he murmured as he looked as Severus who had gone a shade paler. Harry stood and walked over to the bed Severus was sitting on and leaned over to give the other boy a brief hug before he left the infirmary.

When Harry had gone, Severus turned to face the Medi-Witch. "What is this all about, then, Poppy?"

"I have bad news, Severus, quite bad news. However, before I can declare the results I am seeing as one-hundred percent positive, I really need to see Miss Granger as well. Let me fire-call her, she should be free right now."

Severus just nodded, far more worried than he could let on. There were a number of quite serious wizard illnesses that centred on the abdominal region; ones far worse than the Muggle appendicitis.

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Hermione's head snapped upward in surprise when Poppy's voice drifted into her ears.

"Yes, Poppy? Are you out of a potion you simply cannot do without and are going to bother me until I produce a set of vials for you?"

Poppy frowned. "Just because you are living in Severus' body doesn't mean you have to treat me like him."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not really that different from Severus; there wasn't a lot of acting required from me. I am sorry though; I really haven't been feeling that well as of late and didn't want to come see you about it."

"Well, you need to come see me now. I'm not here for potions. I'm here because I have Severus sitting in the infirmary feeling rather ill. I believe I know the cause, but I need to run a similar scan on you to be sure."

Hermione's brow furrowed in thought, before she shrugged and waved a hand at Poppy, acquiescing with her odd request.

Poppy disappeared, and Hermione slowly and grudgingly, stepped into the fireplace to Floo to the infirmary.

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Hermione was dismayed to find that Severus looked as poorly as she felt, perhaps worse. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as if he too, perhaps, had not been eating much as of late.

"Now, Hermione, you sit down next to Severus so I can run a double-scan over both of you."

When she was seated, Poppy took her wand out and re-ran the check she had performed on Severus earlier. The same glow emanated from Hermione's body.

Poppy frowned at her charges. "Well, you two have certainly gotten yourselves into a fix!"

Hermione quirked a brow at the disgruntled matron. "Perhaps you would care to tell us what is going on, Poppy? If it would not be too much trouble."

Poppy smirked. "I can see you haven't had your morning coffee either."

Hermione looked startled, if a bit abashed, but turned towards Severus in astonishment. "You cannot even function without your coffee, Severus, why did you skip yours?"

Severus scowled. "It tasted . . . off. Burnt. But Dean Thomas assured me that it was finely prepared."

"My scans also indicate that you have been having abdominal pains, and that you have been having secretions from your . . . chest area, although perhaps you might not have noticed that as it could have been mistaken for sweat. Oily sweat, but sweat. Oh, and, yes, frequent urination."

Hermione scowled as well. "I assumed it was leftover from Minerva's _punishment_."

Poppy hid a grin. "If it were just you that had suffered as such from frequent urination, I would say your assessment stood, but Severus has experienced it as well, and Minerva did not hex him."

Severus and Hermione shifted impatiently, waiting for Poppy to come to the point.

Poppy shook her head, contemplated calling Albus down, decided against it at the surly expression on Severus' face, and, anticipating the worse, flicked her wand at the two, encasing them in a cushioning charm.

Severus jumped as he felt the spell encase him. "What is the meaning of _this_ Poppy?" he exclaimed, poking at the air around him.

"A cushioning charm, Severus."

"Yes, Poppy, even _I_ know that much. What is the purpose of it in this situation?"

Poppy sighed, restraining her urge to give him a perfectly legitimate if completely unhelpful and quite snarky answer. "Simply put, Severus, because I think one, if not both of you, shall faint when I tell you what your diagnosis is."

Severus raised a brow in disbelief as Hermione snorted.

Poppy paused, trying to find the right words, but as her patients grew more discomfited, she shrugged. "You're pregnant; the both of you."

Eyes widened at this pronouncement.

"_What!"_

"You. Are. Pregnant. Carrying. A. Child. Both. Of. You. I hate it when people need it spelled out for them!"

Hermione's mouth gaped. "I did not even know that was possible!"

Severus sighed. "I did, Hermione, but it never . . ." He blushed furiously as he realised what Poppy would infer from that. Even if it were true. _'But we only had sex one way. Hermione never . . .'_ He felt his cheeks grow even hotter as he realised what truth awaited him.

"Bugger!"

Severus fainted.

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"Severus?"

He heard a distinctly irritating voice at the surface of his mind as the world swam into focus.

A groan escaped his lips as he recognized the brightly twinkling eyes of the Headmaster staring at him; a smile gracing his lips.

He sat up, now grateful for the charm that Poppy had placed upon him earlier, for he was not sore at all. At least, no more than he was before Poppy told him that . . . _'Bugger.'_

Severus turned his head to see Hermione sitting in the chair next to his bed, looking decidedly thoughtful, if a bit put out. Not that he blamed her.

Being pregnant was bad enough; being pregnant in your _male_ surly Potion professor's body was even worse.

"I am sorry, Hermione," Severus murmured, motioning towards the spot on her . . . his body that he imagined the pregnancy would soon reveal itself.

Hermione's gaze met his and held for a moment, reading the truths that lay within. "You have nothing to apologize for Severus. Even if I did not know the possible results of our actions."

She turned to Albus for a moment. "Perhaps you should introduce _'Sex-Ed 101: Wizarding Style' _into the Muggle Studies curriculum. It would save a great many Muggleborns quite a bit of embarrassment."

Albus merely nodded at Hermione, looking thoughtful and bemused.

Hermione turned back to Severus. "If anyone should apologize, it should be Harry and Ron; or at least Ron. He should be aware what their activities could result in."

Severus shook his head, surprising himself by his willingness to defend the youngest male Weasley. "How do we know that Harry, Ron, and Seamus hadn't already discussed this? They would not have any reason to bring the subject up again. Perhaps they were using a potion, which is not one-hundred percent reliable –" Hermione snickered. "Or some other unreliable method?"

Hermione sighed. "I see your point, but if they never discussed it at all, I am going to personally kill Ron."

Severus sighed. "It's a sweet thought, Hermione, but if he is the . . . Father of my child, killing him seems considerably poor planning." _'Sweet? Did I just use the word sweet?'_ Severus winced. Hormones were a terrible thing.

Albus patted Severus on the shoulder. "Well, the good thing is that Hermione will no longer be forced to pretend to be you, Severus."

"What? Why on earth not? The potion has not shown any signs of wearing off yet. What we mistook for signs of that, most unfortunately turned out to be signs of pregnancy!"

Albus smiled; a thin smile, though his eyes were full of humour, as he gave Severus a look that plainly said Severus was being a bit thick.

"My dear boy, you cannot possibly expect her to teach Potions while pregnant, now can you? Think of the danger both your body and the child's would be in were she to be exposed to any of the fumes or worse, an accident."

"Fine," Severus grumbled. "Just what do you plan to do in her . . . our absence? Please do not tell me _you_ are planning to teach my students again. It took me months to convince them that Potions was not a joyous subject full of frivolity last time you took over in my stead."

"No worries, Severus, no worries. I have the _perfect_ candidate in mind. He should be here early next week, so we just shall cancel Potions until then so that you can get the classroom ready for a new professor. Your chambers and private labs will remain under your watch only, but do try to stay away from anything dangerous while in your current conditions," he finished, giving the two a stern look.


	17. Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

**Chapter Eighteen: Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun**

The mood around Hogwarts was tense and unfathomable for the next week. Or, at least it was in the dungeons, although many people, students and professors alike, found this no different from usual. As per his usual, Professor Dumbledore chose not to tell the general population that the two were pregnant, only that due to present circumstances, Professor Snape would be unable to teach Potions for the unforeseeable future and that as the Headmaster, he had already hired a substitute.

Seamus, forbidden from the potions laboratory for the same reason, left the two lost souls completely out of sorts and needing to find a new location for their meetings. Under the guise of unending detentions, Hermione and Severus were able to maintain their friendship that had become quite close over the extraordinary school year. Neither would have believed in the possibility of their friendship, but neither could bear the thought of giving it up now.

Seamus, still stuck in Hermione's body, was having a miserable time. His Head of House was still furious with him for the havoc he had wreaked on the girl's body, of how thoughtless he was, and how lucky he was that he had not gotten the poor girl pregnant or ill with all the running around he did. Admittedly, he felt a bit ashamed at that last bit. He could not imagine how he would have faced Hermione, who he had learned was inhabiting Severus' body, to tell her she had contracted venereal disease or a pregnancy. He was not sure which the young witch would consider a worse fate.

Pregnancy never crossed his mind since it wasn't something he usually had to worry about. He wished he could talk to Ron and Harry about this, but they were still appalled at Hermione's recent lack of decorum, and had no idea that it was really Seamus in any case. He couldn't break the secrecy, not now, not after all this time.

Even if he would take a macabre delight in seeing the faces Ron and Harry were sure to pull when they realised who they had sent the night with before 'Seamus' was moved out of Gryffindor Tower.

Sighing, his head in his hands, he sat on the Head Girl's bed, accepting comfort from the only one who seemed inclined to provide it: Crookshanks. The huge orange cat had given up indifference to another soul inhabiting his Mistress' body when he sensed the despair rolling off this young bloke in waves. He did what cats do best; stalked across the bed into the boy's lap, firmly kneaded his thighs, and curled up for a long nap, some good scritches, and purred away.

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Meanwhile, the Headmaster was charming the new Potions professor.

"Yes, yes, you shall be just fine. The school could use some fresh blood, a new way of looking at things. Especially in Potions; I am afraid that while our regular Potions professor is a fine brewer and we are lucky to have a Master teaching our young minds, he does not quite know how to engage their interest suitably."

The man nodded succinctly. "And why is it again that this Potions Master shall be unable to perform his duty as a professor?"

Albus' blue eyes twinkled like two stars. "He has a family emergency that must be seen to with the utmost care and precision. He is still on the premises, as he will be needed to teach you to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, as well as remaining at his post of Head of Slytherin, but he is not to brew any potions on his own; they would not do well for his current . . . constitution, shall we say.

The new professor arched an eyebrow in curiosity, but said nothing in response.

The Headmaster was used to this sort of thing and quickly offered a cup of tea followed by a sherbet lemon, before finally standing and moving elegantly around his desk so that he was in front of the newest addition to the Hogwarts staff.

"Welcome, welcome, Professor Siyamak. Let me show you to your rooms."

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Hermione and Severus were not aware that their replacement had arrived until the evening feast.

Hermione, glamour and shields in place to hide her developing pregnancy and protect her body and the child should something or someone come in contact with her, slid into Severus' regular seat the High Table.

As per usual, there were people seated on each side of her.

As per usual, she ignored them.

Until she realised that Severus, seated between Ron and Harry, was looking at her with a dumfounded expression, eyes sliding to the left, her right. The seat next to the Headmaster.

The seat of the new Potions professor.

Hermione was never more thankful that she had mastered Severus' expression of complete neutrality.

There on her right side, sat Sage.

It did not take long for the student body to realise there was a new professor that appeared to be a younger version of Professor Snape.

Before the Headmaster was able to gain control of his school, several students had worn themselves hoarse screaming, crying, and a few were floating gently on their way to the infirmary, having passed out in shock at the dire thought that perhaps a second Snape existed. As the hullabaloo died down, only a slight twitch at the corner of Hermione's lips told Snape just how she felt about Dumbledore's latest scheme.

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Hermione slipped out of the Great Hall as soon as she reasonably could, and returned to the sanctity of her dungeon rooms. Severus showed up shortly thereafter, his irritation looking completely out of place on the usually jovial face of Seamus Finnegan.

Words flew from his lips the moment the door closed behind him. "How in the world did the esteemed Headmaster find someone like _that_ to replace me . . . you . . . with? Is that git even qualified to be teaching the delicate art which is Potions?"

Hermione smirked at Severus. "I do not know how Albus came across Sage in his search for a new Potions professor, but I do know that he is qualified. He is actually a Potions Master for an Egyptian school of magic."

"Perhaps he should go back there. What will his school do without their professor?"

"He is not a teacher. He merely brews potions for the school and does copious amounts of research. Research so dry, he even managed to bore _me_ with it."

Severus glanced at Hermione in surprise. "No matter," he murmured after a moment, "a Master? That does not mean he can teach. You stated he is not a professor. We shall see how long he lasts. I admit though that I am worried about what he will do when he sees you, or at least the person he will believe to be you."

"That should be priceless. Do you think we should warn Seamus?"

"Only if you think we're in danger of Minerva hexing the male population of Hogwarts all over again. I'm sure they'd rather pass up on that delightful opportunity to be as anatomically impaired as a Ken doll."

"You know what a Ken doll is?" Hermione was suitably impressed.

Severus blushed faintly. "It was a peculiar film reference that I endeavoured to place on having seen this particular film."

Hermione grinned. "I never would have known you to be a fan of Kevin Smith films."

"Yes, well, the ideas are fresh, the humour a bit cliché at times, but good for a laugh, and the Metatron was a breath of fresh air."

"A bit like watching yourself, I would imagine," snickered Hermione.

Severus looked at her confused, but passed it off as yet another unfathomable modern Muggle reference.

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The next week brought curious whispers as students began their Potions class with Professor Siyamak.

Whether he could teach or not was never in question; no one but Hermione had ever thought that Professor Snape was a good teacher, so they had nothing on the Potions level on which to compare him. He was suave, if a bit cocky, interesting, and, despite his resemblance to Professor Snape, quite handsome and entertaining. It was as if someone had scrubbed Professor Snape clean and hit him with a Cheering Charm.

Not that anyone was complaining.

Except for Seamus Finnegan, who was regrettably still in Hermione's body.

Seamus wasn't awful at Potions, but he certainly wasn't up to Hermione's par. As such, the Headmaster had pulled Hermione from the upper level Potions class and given her a study period.

It had not taken Sage long to realise that his roster had been modified and that his star pupil, for reasons passing understanding, had been dropped from the course. How that did foul up one's . . . plans.

He waited for Hermione by the library one Friday afternoon, concealing himself in a darkened alcove until the pretty witch walked by, head in the clouds. Before Seamus knew what was going on, he felt a firm hand close over his wrist and pull him inside of one of the dark niches of the castle.

"Wha--?"

"Shhhhh, my pretty little witch. We wouldn't want a repeat of Christmas, now would we?"

"Christmas? What are you talking about, Professor?"

"Come, come now, Hermione, you know as well as I do what happened on Christmas. I've chalked it up to nerves, so there's no reason to be upset or guilty. I've forgiven your rather inopportune comments. Why else do you think I took a job at Hogwarts but to be by your side? Come, my pretty little witch, I have many things to share with you, love."

"Professor!"

"Now, now, Hermione, you were pulled from my class – you're not my student, and we can do whatever we want."

He tapped Hermione gently with his wand and pulled her unresisting form along behind him, down the short hall to his chambers, which were not far away. Professor Snape had expressed a strong wish not to have the new professor anywhere near his own rooms. For once, Albus had given in, no questions asked

Seamus allowed himself to be pulled along; there actually wasn't anything he could do about it. The professor had used wordless magic, and Seamus wasn't the best at fighting off hexes in any case; he could barely fight off the gags the twins used to pull.

He sighed deeply, and hoped that Minerva left his male friends alone. This time, it really wasn't his fault, and he wasn't looking forward to what the implied outcome to this adventure was going to be.

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_Author's Note Siyamak is Persian for "man with dark eyes" and remember that the school he comes from is called Nefer Senef which is old Egyptian for (roughly) 'beautiful blood'_


	18. Missionary Position

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

_Author's Note:__  
_

_**Dedication:** Mystic would like to dedicate this chapter to her on-line friend magicphoenix05. Mystic had ideas but was in a writing slump (dead muse?) and magicphoenix05 asked for one more role playing session (her original character plus my Snape) so I could see how she'd developed her character. Mystic was sleepy but agreed, and once she got back into that, found herself typing away on this chapter. So, thank you a bunch magicphoenix05, I really appreciate it! - Mystic  
_

_Love MysticSlave_

**Chapter Eighteen: Missionary . . . Position**

From the shadows, Ron and Harry watched, curious, as their new professor dragged their best friend along behind him. It was unlike Hermione to be so complacent.

'Come to think of it, there was a lot about her . . .'

Ron interrupted his thoughts: "Do you think he hexed her?"

Harry nodded. "It's a possibility. She probably wasn't paying a bit of attention since she was headed towards the library. It doesn't look like it's the Imperious curse, but her body is rag-doll limp." Harry studied his friend a moment. He hadn't been pleased with what he saw as Hermione's apparent rebellion a few weeks ago, especially considering what Minerva did to the majority of the male population of Hogwarts in some sort of odd-placed retaliation, but 'Mione was still his friend and he wasn't about to let some new hot-shot professor drag her off for who only knows what sort of activity.

"Think we should follow him?"

Harry hesitated a moment. He knew that generally speaking, 'Mione could take care of herself, but she'd seemed a bit off lately, almost as if it weren't really . . .

The end of fourth year simmered and bubbled up from the recesses of his mind, and came forth coupled with not one but two very recent disasters from his seventh year Potions class.

"Polyjuice," breathed Harry, despairingly.

"Polyjuice?"

"Ron, we had _two_ Polyjuice disasters in Potions this year – at least one of which Hermione was party to, and you must remember how Madame Pomfrey said she'd always be more susceptible to the effects after what happened our second year . . . and this Polyjuice was mixed with all sorts of wrong things!"

"So you're thinking it isn't even Hermione . . . hasn't been Hermione for a long time?" Ron's strategically-bent brain was ticking furiously as he began to put puzzle pieces together.

"I'm not sure, but either way, we can't leave her body prey to the professor . . . even if he is awfully hot," sighed Harry wistfully.

Ron shook his head in amusement. Harry and Seamus hungered after the dour Potions professor the way he hungered over any and all meals: relentless, driven, never quite satisfied.

"He does beat that wig you dug up," he said, waggling his fuzzy red eyebrows at Harry.

The two young men started with Quidditch-honed reflexes as they felt a presence creep up next to them. Turning, they found Seamus eyeing them. "What are you two doing in this part of the castle?"

"Trying to decide if 'Mione's been Polyjuiced again," answered Harry. "Professor Siyamak just hexed her and dragged her down that hall . . . I think his private chambers are down there."

Severus gulped inaudibly. No one really had any ideas what the new, dark man may try. Damn Albus and his indiscriminate methods of hiring.

Harry may be the bane of his existence, but he wasn't stupid, and if he'd figured out Hermione had been . . .

With a sigh, he beckoned to the remaining two-thirds of the Golden Trio. "Come with me, I need to tell you something, but I can't do it here."

Curious, concerned for Hermione, but curious nonetheless, the boys followed the presumed Seamus Finnegan into the deep recesses of the castle, as he led them the secretive back way to Severus' private chambers.

Hermione looked up startled; she hadn't been expecting company. "Severus?" she called out – not even Albus could get in the way the Head of Slytherin had just entered . . . unfortunately he was not alone, and Ron and Harry held gob smacked expressions.

Had Professor Snape lost it? Breathed in too many fumes? Is that why he wasn't teaching? Why did Seamus know how to get in here anyhow? Seamus confused them further by stepping forward, calling out, "It is I, Hermione . . . and the rest of your Golden Trio."

A dark, but questioning look from the professor was the only reply.

"They started to figure it out, and Seamus is in trouble, so I brought them to see the brains of their operation . . . I figure it is time they knew, and damn Albus for letting it get this far."

A light, dim at first, but fanning and growing quickly amidst rage and horror was coming on for Ron and Harry.

It was Ron, however, who spoke first, tact and grace absent as usual.

"Buh-wah…… Blimey, Harry! You buggered Snape that night!" He turned to look at 'Seamus' "Didn't he, _Professor_?" Rom demanded of the Irish boy.

"Yes," Severus said simply. Beating around the bush pointless as far as he could see."

Harry inhaled, a deep reedy whistling of air, before exclaiming, "Oh, hell!" And with that, the Boy Who Lived fainted dead away.

Severus couldn't help but snicker.

Ten or so minutes later found Harry's form draped carelessly over the divan in Severus' private quarters, eyes blinking as he came back into reality, a very mild _enervate_ having been placed on him to get things going.

Harry blinked bemusedly at his friends and his professor, who was doing his best to smirk using the jovial Irish boy's features, and asked, "What would Siyamak want with the person whom he believes is Hermione anyhow?"

Hermione sighed. "When the man is on hols from the magical institute he usually calls home, he lives near my parent's neighbourhood and apparently decided I'd be a good catch for him. I've been trying to shrug it off, and thought Severus here did a quite remarkable job at keeping things from progressing any further at all over the winter hols, but apparently it just made him all the more determined to have me. Although why he'd want an _insufferable know-it-all_ is beyond my comprehension."

Severus placed a hand on the side of Hermione's face and simply looked at her, before turning to the boys who were quite startled to find the man had a gentle side. Even Ron could tell that their friend and the Potions Master had obviously become quite close, although just how close he had no inkling.

"So what exactly has been going on this year, 'Mione?" asked Ron anxiously.

Hermione spread her long fingers in front of her as she settled back into her favourite chair.

"Harry, I'm sure you remember that first rather spectacular accident we suffered in Potions class? Well, when I woke up from the incident I was in the infirmary and so was Professor Snape. It didn't take long to realise that somehow the Polyjuice potion's effects had caused us to switch bodies. Poppy alerted Albus who informed us that we were strictly forbidden from telling anyone what had happened and that we had to continue on with our lives pretending that we were in fact who we appeared to be. You can imagine this has caused all sorts of trouble."

"I'll say!" exclaimed Ron, "Didja hear about what happened to quite a number of the other guys?"

Hermione crossed her legs uncomfortably at that remembrance.

"McGonagall got you too, didn't she!" hooted Harry.

"Yes," ground out Hermione, "and it was bloody uncomfortable!"

"What I don't understand is _why_ our Head of House would _do_ something like that, Hermione," mused Ron. "She's always seemed so . . . caring towards all her students. It's more like something you'd do to protect the honour of . . . Oh…….."

The blush that rose on Hermione's cheeks looked decidedly odd on the pale face of the Potion Master.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Harry. "You and . . . . you and?"

"Come now," murmured Severus, "let us not faint again, mmmm, Potter?"

Bolstered by annoyance of Severus teasing her astounded friend, she snapped, harsher than she meant to, "_Yes_, Harry, Minerva's my lover." She paused, her features taking on a sad look, "at least she was. I'm not sure she'll want me anymore. She's not very forgiving."

"No kidding!" exclaimed Ron, unable to come up with anything else at the moment.

"'Mione, if she loves you enough to take up your cause and disfigure the men of Hogwarts, I'm sure she'd want you back."

Hermione just sniffed. "That's assuming I ever get my body back. That and . . ." she sighed, and looked downwards at her well-glamoured body.

Harry looked at her suspiciously. "Why not? What are you hiding? Do . . . do you love Professor Snape?"

Said professor's head snapped upwards at that from his careful studying of his hands. He was missing his own, long, tapered fingers.

"It is not that . . . simple," he murmured, his voice low.

"Why? Either she loves you or she doesn't."

Ron peered at Hermione thoughtfully. There were slight changes, mood differences, things not even glamours could cover . . . and he knew more than Harry did about certain traits of powerful _male_ wizards.

"Hermione!" he breathed. "You didn't! You're not!"

Hermione's eyes were soulful as Harry begged Ron to clarify the situation.

"Harry, mate, 'Mione's pregnant!"

"But…. She's a he!"

Severus shook his head. "Albus really needs a Wizard's studies class as much as he does Muggle studies."

"Why do you think I made you take that potion I got from the twins?"

"I thought it was some sort of silly gag you were pulling that would give me funny spots or something," Harry explained.

"Mate, no, if you _hadn't_ taken it, you'd be up the duff, just like Hermione."

Hermione snorted, "And Severus."

The two boys looked at him in shock. "No wonder we have a new Potions professor and . . . blimey, he still has your body, Hermione!"

Hermione dropped her face into her hands. "Merlin, help me!"

Severus laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I think that it is best we all go and deal with this situation. Albus is always ready to step up to defend his professors, even if it puts his students in danger. I'm afraid I may be the reason for that large blind spot of his." He sighed. "But you two," he said, pointing at Harry and Ron, "will need the help of a professor, which will be myself, and the semblance of really having one with you, which will be Hermione." He stood and dusted non-existent specks off his robes.

"Shall we?"

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All fearing the worst, they moved swiftly through secret corridors that Snape directed them into, too worried to even bother to intimidate them out of using them in the future.

There was only silence from Siyamak's quarters; of course this was most likely attributed to a silencing spell.

Snape traced an intricate pattern on the door with his wand and suddenly they could see through it.

"What was-?"

"Dark magic. Don't attempt to replicate it," Snape said in hushed undertones.

Peering through the now transparent door, it was all Hermione could do to stifle her outrage.

The 'good' professor had her lithe form pinned to his daybed, stroking her, telling her how beautiful she was, telling her how he knew they were always meant to be together.

There was fear in her eyes, but her form was unmoving. Hermione did not know if it was Seamus' fear, or a spell from the Potions professor that kept him unmoving; perhaps a combination of both.

With a flick of the wrist, a wordless _Alohamora_ flung open the door, and Snape's famous icy tones cut across the room, chilling Siyamak into stillness.

"Just what exactly do you think you are doing," Hermione hissed.

Although caught off-guard, the Potions professor quickly composed himself and turned to face the Potions Master.

"Hermione is a dear friend of mine, Severus, and as I haven't seen her since Christmas, we wanted a little time to get . . . reacquainted."

Hermione raised a brow. "It does not appear that Miss Granger shares this supposed mutual wish of yours, Sage," she murmured, pointing to her rigid frame. "I believe it would be in your best interest to cease your drivel and any activity you may be contemplating and let her return to her studies."

Sage shifted slightly, and Hermione and her entourage were startled to find that he had stripped the girl's body of her clothes; as chilly as the room was, however, Seamus made no move to cover his abrupt nudity. It was as if he had been petrified.

Hermione snarled, and before anyone could stop her, had cast, in rapid succession, a powerful _stupefy_ followed by _petrificus totalis_!

Sage dropped heavily onto the edge of the daybed, and, with a loud _thud_ rolled unceremoniously onto the hard floor below.

Snape snickered.

So did Harry and Ron.

With a gentleness surprising to anyone who did not yet know the truth about who was really behind Severus Snape's austere form, Hermione scooped her own body gently from the bed, and with a quick housekeeping-type spell learned from Molly Weasley, re-clothed her form, and then peered into her own eyes.

She was met by blankness, and turned to look fearfully at Severus.

"There's nothing there. It's as if his soul was extinguished."

Snape sighed. Nothing was ever easy with this lot of Gryffindors. He grasped the girl's chin in his hand and cast Legilimency with practiced ease.

After a few moments he withdrew. "I believe that Mr. Finnegan is only in a trance; whether it is self-induced for his own protection or cast by _him_, I couldn't say. We need to make a visit to Minerva."

"Shouldn't we see the Headmaster about this first since he knows about the body-swapping?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "We need an ally, and we can't be sure that the Headmaster will be one since he's made us live this sham all year. Besides, Minerva already knows; came as quite a shock to her too, the poor dear."

**  
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**Please review!**


	19. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Mistress Scorne

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**  
By MysticSlave

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK's. Much to our disappointment._

**Chapter Nineteen: Hell Hath No Fury Like a Mistress Scorned**

Albus' generally charming face was black with fury as he stared mutely at the space between his Headmistress and what the still form of his Potions professor.

Minerva really did have quite a temper. Perhaps he shouldn't have forbid the professors to have relations, as if they were part of a religious order, as it had backfired spectacularly in this case. He wondered what the rest of his staff was up to, and shuddered at the thought; it was, of course, rather hypocritical considering what he had done with . . . no, must keep those thoughts damped down, or Rolanda . . . no! He returned to the situation at hand.

"Minerva," he finally ground out, "Where is the rest of Sage?"

Minerva smiled thinly and replied, "What does it matter? It's not as if he needs it anymore. He'll be comatose for _quite_ some length of time."

Albus sighed.

"I transfigured it."

"No surprise there," murmured Severus, with black humour.

Hermione snickered.

So did Harry and Ron.

The snickers became guffaws, and even Minerva joined in, before Fawkes trilled sharply, bringing them all back to focus.

Albus simply looked at Minerva.

"I transfigured it into a Cornish Pixie and it flew away. You know how they are –"

Words from Lockhart's first ill-fated lesson sprung to mind, and Hermione, Harry and Ron all recited with her, "devilishly tricky little blighters!"

Albus groaned and shook his head. "Is he temporarily or permanently comatose, Minerva? It does not appear that he's breathing."

She bent over and prodded his chest. "Oops?"

Albus sighed. This was turning out to be a most impossible year. He mentally calculated the steps he would need to take to ensure that his delightful, if sometimes a bit evil, Deputy Headmistress wasn't carted away by Fudge and his lackeys.

"Minerva, I task you with the job of writing to the school which we borrowed Sage from and explaining why he shall not be returning. Ask if they would like us to bury him or if they shall plan to collect his . . . personal artefacts."

Albus suspected Minerva was plotting something, as she did not object to his request, but as she would not look at him, he was unable to cast a wordless _Legilimency_ her way.

Shortly after the meeting came to a close, Minerva, Hermione, Severus, Ron, and Harry regrouped in Minerva's office. Seamus had been taken to Madame Pomfrey for shock treatment; thankfully, it did not appear that Sage had actually done anything to him; a fact that provided much relief to Hermione.

"So," Hermione asked devilishly, "what did you _really_ do to Sage's . . . bits?"

"You know me too well," Minerva grinned.

"So do I," volunteered Severus, with a groan.

That brought a small pause to the conversation, before Minerva answered Hermione's question.

"Well, he has Egyptian background, so his bits are in Egypt . . . as a flesh-eating scarab beetle. It seemed an appropriate punishment. And if the transfiguration ever wears off, well, the thousands of other beetles it is now residing with shall take of the remaining vestiges most suitably." She looked quite pleased with herself at this.

It was quite creative, they had to admit, but they all, even Hermione, shuddered at the thought. Hopefully it couldn't feel anything, being detached from the thinking part of Sage. But no one really wanted to ask and find out for sure – or to give Minerva any new ideas.

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The year progressed rather slowly from that point. Hermione returned to teaching the theoretical side of Potions while Minerva and Poppy took turns overseeing the actual brewing to protect Hermione's unborn child.

Seamus was still in the infirmary; they were unsure if he was in shock or in an odd sort of coma, but there was no light in the brown eyes he was living behind, and he responded to nothing. Madame Pomfrey had to provide magical assistance to ensure Hermione's body received appropriate nourishment and that it did not deteriorate physically.

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Late spring was upon them before they knew it, and Severus and Hermione worked late into the night studying every Potions text they could get their hands on, trying feverishly to reverse the effects of their long-lasting transformation. There was very little material on this, and more importantly, they were afraid of what may happen to their unborn children.

Eventually, they conceded that they had no option but to let the children be born; they would continue their work after that calamity, and decide what their best course of action was then. Neither really wanted to seek out help in their present state.

To say the general population of Hogwarts was thrilled when the Headmaster announced that Potions had been cancelled for the remainder of the year due to an unforeseen situation with Professor Snape would be an understatement. Albus did not dare make any reference that it was in regards to the professor's health.

Students were less than thrilled when a follow-up announcement was posted in the common rooms indicating that written exams, _much_ more thorough than usual, would be given in place of the Potions final. Seventh years, however, would still be expected to take a practical examination, which the Headmaster himself would oversee.

As Professor Snape could still be seen gliding about the castle, his usual scowl in place, everyone was quite curious as to why he wasn't teaching, what happened to Professor Siyamak, and why a number of Gryffindors looked ready to laugh heartily whenever they caught Professor Snape's eye. What was more confounding was that the greasy git of the dungeons nearly looked ready to respond in kind; but then the eyebrow would go up, the scowl come down, and sometimes, but not always a random smattering of point deduction. It was all very confusing, and the Slytherins were feeling rather put out by the odd behaviour their Head of House was displaying.

Only well-placed concealing charms kept the pregnancies a secret.

But nature does what nature will, and not even a concealing charm, interwoven by Minerva and Filius, could prevent the high visibility of one's water breaking when the pregnancy is ready to commence.

Thankfully, only Harry and Ron witnessed this rare and, in their minds, somewhat amusing, event of both Hermione and Severus leaping from the sofa to their feet faster than a pregnant person ought to be able to move, wipe their hands unbelievingly across their backsides, peer at the couch, look at each other, and faint.

Harry and Ron, blessed with quick reflexes and honed further in Quidditch, caught both of them before they could hit the ground and cause any possible damage to themselves or the unborn life growing within them, racing, ready to come out, and resettled them on the sofa as comfortably as possible.

Harry then tossed a pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace, and called for Madam Pomfrey.


	20. The Return of the Native

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JKR's. Much to our disappointment._

_Author's Note:_

_**Please review. And kudos to anyone who can identify the source of the chapter title and why Mystic picked it for this eleven-page, forty-six hundred plus words chapter!**_

_Love MysticSlave_

**Chapter Twenty: The Return of the Native**

It is a rare event for a Mother's first birth to be an easy experience; the Father giving birth merely compounds the problem, as Hermione and Severus were finding out. Madam Pomfrey had alleviated their pain the best she could without putting them out completely or putting their unborn children at risk.

The infirmary was quiet except for the strained groans and moans of the two pregnant men. Severus in particular was having difficulty. Male pregnancies were a common occurrence in the Wizarding world, but currently housed in Seamus' body, put Severus at high risk; the young Irish boy's boy just wasn't developed enough to handle a full-term child ready to meet the world. His magical core in particular was under a lot of strain as it fought to keep both Seamus' body and the unborn life within it still alive; the pull of the child was greatly diminishing the core. Poppy was quite worried; this was a new experience to her, and she feared for Seamus, Severus, and the child should the boy's magic dwindle too far.

As very few people had been allowed to know of the impending pregnancies, there were very few people that came by to check on the two suffering wizards, but those that knew circulated in and out as their schedules allowed, with Harry, Ron, and Minerva being constants. Were it not for having to attend or teach class, they would have likely taken up residency in the infirmary.

Hours turned into days, and still the labour ensued, with seemingly no hope that the births were coming. Albus watched over the two nervously, as their bodies became swollen and red as their respective blood pressures slowly increased as days passed without birth but the contractions continued, bringing little rest to the two.

Approximately a week later, Poppy called Albus, Minerva, Harry, and Ron into the infirmary. "I've made the decision to induce labour," she informed them quietly. "Going day after day without giving birth is causing them anguish, and I fear for Severus being stuck inside Seamus' body – his magical reserves are nearly gone."

"I actually don't understand why you haven't induced already. I don't know a lot about birth, of course, but my understanding from things I've heard my aunt say, is that once a woman's water breaks, if birth is not imminent, inducing the birth immediately is mandatory," Harry spoke up, confusion evident in his voice.

"For Muggles, your aunt would be quite correct, Harry" Poppy explained, "but when there is magic involved, we are able to sustain the infant's life for a period of two weeks after the water breaks. Due to their current condition, however, I do not want to risk waiting any longer. Minerva, if you could assist I would be most grateful. Due to the sensitive nature of their predicament, I hesitate to call anyone from St. Mungo's."

Minerva nodded and quickly prepared herself in the manner Poppy instructed. Albus cast a powerful locking and silencing charm on the doors, and instructed Harry and Ron to sit quietly in nearby chairs.

Harry turned to Ron suddenly and whispered, "How do you induce male labour? I mean, where is the baby going to come out of?"

Ron's cheeks were tinged red as he looked at Harry and just raised a brow.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Harry, wincing at the thought.

"Yeah, well, the other option would be a lot more painful," muttered Ron, a bit squeamishly. "The only other thing they can do is that Muggle see-section, that we overheard one of the girls talking about from Muggle Studies."

Harry nodded trying not to imagine how the Medi-Witch was preparing the two pregnant wizards, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more intensely the rather graphic images poured forth from his imagination.

Trying to distract himself from what was going on, Ron speculated aloud, "So, whose babies do you think they'll be having since they're not in their own bodies?"

Harry looked at Ron dumbfounded. "I never even thought about that . . . is there a way to test for that in the Wizarding world?"

"Huh?"

Harry smiled at his friend. "In the Muggle world, when there is question as to the paternal parentage of the child, they can do tests to find out who the father is." Harry knew there was no point in trying to explain about DNA to Ron.

Comprehension sparked to life in Ron's eyes. "Oh! Yeah, I've heard that Medi-Witches are able to do some test if there is a question. I bet this will be a challenging one though, considering all the varybulls."

"Variables," Harry laughed.

"That's what I said!"

Harry just shook his head.

At least another hour passed before hurried movement became noticeable around the two labouring wizards... witch and wizard?

Poppy stood at the foot of one bed, Minerva at the other; no sooner were the women in place did the sound of squalling infants, fill the room. The two witches smiled at each other, carefully holding two infants a piece.

Harry and Ron raced back into the curtained area, drawing up short at the realization that there were three babies. One with deep brown curly hair, one with red hair, and one with messy brown hair.

Ron's mouth dropped open at the realization that one of them was his. Minerva looked his way and with an acerbic tone that would have made the Potions professor proud, asked, "Do you care to explain, Mr. Weasley? Mr. Potter?"

Before Ron could reply, Harry had asked, "Who had the two children?"

Poppy shook her head. "The curly haired child is Miss Granger's and Professor Snape's. The other two would appear to be the product of you, Mr. Weasley, and possibly Snape." She frowned at the two young men, obviously wishing to say something to them, when magic began to pulse around the two exhausted child-bearing wizards. Poppy quickly summoned a large bassinette for the infants so that she and Minerva could tend to this newest calamity.

As the glow grew brighter, Dobby suddenly popped into the private room. "Madame Poppy! Missus Hermione is having greatest of trouble. She is glowing like Master Snape and Mr. Seamus is! But Missus Hermione is also writhing. She be in much pain!" The House Elf's tennis-ball like eyes seemed even wider than usual as he reported his news. The elf suddenly turned and wrapped himself around Harry's legs. "Master Harry, you must help your Missus Hermione. She is in great pain, Master Harry! You must help too, Wheezy!" Dobby exclaimed imploringly.

Harry carefully untangled Dobby's hands from his legs and looked at the Mediwitch. "If you can carry your friend's body, it may be best that she is in here as well. Merlin only knows what's going to happen."

Harry nodded and he and Ron went to fetch Hermione-Seamus from another private room in the infirmary. Moments after her body was carefully settled on a bed near the bodies of Professor Snape and Seamus Finnegan, the glow began to pulse and shimmer in a multitude of colours. Brighter and brighter it grew, slowly becoming amorphous as the souls of the three became visible. Harry and Ron, despite their recent interactions with a less caustic Snape, were still a bit surprised to see the Professor's soul wasn't as dark as one would have expected. He definitely had many shades to him, but his aura radiated love and goodness. Harry came to the realization that Fawkes must be able to sense this inner goodness about the man which probably gave the Headmaster the utter sureness he needed to trust Snape. No wonder it was The Order of the _Phoenix_!

The souls hovered in the air as if they were rather confused, before slowly shifting over their bodies. Slowly, ever so slowly, the souls sank into their true homes, and the light pulsed once more and then disappeared.

Many hours passed before the weary souls allowed their bodies to regain consciousness. An out-of-body experience is always tiring, and two of the three of them had been wrenched away from their true selves for the better portion of the year. Slowly, however, their magics began to rebalance. But they would never truly be as they were again. They had each experienced too much not to change, even if it was just a little.

It took several days before the three were truly able to function properly. They were, however, at a loss to decide exactly whom would be caring for the infants.

Seamus initially felt he shouldn't have the responsibility of Fatherhood placed in his hands as, although his body had been pregnant, he did not truly feel that he had carried any of the children, and really had no interest in being a Father. He was also still rather traumatized by what the brief-lived new Potions professor had done to him, although regular counseling sessions with Minerva, the most devious righter-of-wrongs he had ever met, was definitely helping him come to terms with his near rape. Poppy was still trying to determine exactly what traits the children carried, and how much the carrier of the children had to do with the children's lives as opposed to who had who's DNA. She still wasn't quite sure she understood this DNA thing, but Hermione had explained it as simply as possible, and promised the MediWitch some Muggle textbooks so she could grasp the finer points, despite Poppy's vague assurance that there was a simpler way to discover the truth.

As days passed, however, still uncertain if either child borne of Severus' body were at all his, Seamus voiced the possibility of him taking a bit of a parental role in the caring for the two children. Unfortunately for Seamus, he made the comment within hearing range of the Potion's Master who was in quite a snarky mood.

"You have the personality of a candle, Mr. Finnegan. Your only interest is chasing blokes and birds; you're not fit to be a parent, and certainly not to a child of mine!"

Seamus refrained from mentioning his thoughts on the matter again for some time.

"That was harsh, Severus," Hermione commented. "What brought that on?"

The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, thinking if he really wanted to admit, but then decided she could just be as embarrassed as he. "Your friend Mr. Weasley took it upon himself to describe precisely how we each reacted when our souls were returned to our natural bodies. Despite not being truly conscious, there was evidently quite a bit of self-groping, to put it more tastefully than Mr. Weasley phrased it. Evidently we wanted to reassure ourselves that nothing was missing."

"There was quite a bit of groan-"

"That _will_ be quite enough, Mr. Weasley!" roared Snape, his expression darkening.

"I see," was Hermione's stilted response as her cheeks reddened.

Harry and Ron were often found cooing at the two children whom they closely resembled. Hermione and Severus found they both were experiencing what Hermione called 'post-partum depression' even though Hermione was now in her own body; one which had not carried a child at all.

The most difficult issue that was on Hermione's mind was her relationship with Minerva as compared to her relationship with Severus. She had come to the conclusion that she loved them both dearly although for completely different reasons and in completely different ways. What was a girl to do?

She sat forlornly in her Head Girl's room, rocking the little baby that was the obvious product of her one coupling with the Potions professor. They hadn't quite decided how to resolve the parenting issue. But, since she only had the one child to her name, and Severus now had two, she took the child off his hands, promising to think on the matter seriously, and perhaps to come up with a suitable name for the little girl.

A few weeks later, Hermione found herself in the Headmaster's office with Minerva, Severus, Poppy, Seamus, Harry, and Ron, and several infants, who were thankfully all sleeping.

"Sir, may I ask why you have called us all together?" Hermione asked respectfully.

"Many students have been asking about what has happened, and I believe now that the pregnancies have come to fruition, that it is time to reveal what exactly happened over the course of the past year."

Not even Severus was exempt from a dropped jaw; they were stunned by the pronouncement. Was the Headmaster completely off his rocker?

"Albus, you . . . you can't be serious!"

"I most certainly am, Severus," the Headmaster replied in a most serious voice. "The students have a right-"

"The _students_ have a _right_ to invade my privacy? _Our_ privacy?" he ranted, gesturing at the students around him whom Albus' inane idea would surely compromise. "You want children telling their parents?" Severus thought perhaps he was having a bad dream and when he woke up he would be cuddled up with . . . _stop that line of thought right now, Severus!_ he told himself fiercely.

No one, however, could reason Albus out of his surety of decision, and, eventually, the summoned group left his office defeated. In an uncommon burst of goodwill, or perhaps he was still in shock, Severus invited the lot of them down to his chambers.

Once there, and everyone was seated, Minerva spoke up. "Severus, while I appreciate your sudden hospitality, I would like to know just what you have in mind."

Her younger colleague shrugged, seemingly at a loss for words; sharp-tongued or otherwise. Minerva frowned when Hermione moved to sit next to Severus, until the young woman patted the seat next to her, and the Deputy Headmistress gladly ensconced herself in what she considered her rightful place. That was another thing, Minerva realized; how would the events of the past year effect her relationship with Hermione? Would she want to leave her for the dark man? She blinked back tears and waited to see if anyone had any ideas.

"Severus, I've named our daughter."

Severus' head snapped up from the dropped position in his lap and looked at Hermione, a bit startled. "That's all you have to say after what the Headmaster is doing to us?"

"I'm actually at a loss for ideas-"

"Merlin help us if _you_ don't have any ideas, Hermione!" sputtered Ron.

"-but I had come up with a name and figured now was as good as time to tell you," she concluded, ignoring her friend's outburst.

Severus nodded. "Well, out with it, then."

"I've chosen 'Eloise Eileen Granger-Snape'."

"You couldn't combine our surnames in some fashion?"

"You want our child to have the last name 'Grape'?"

"Certainly not. Hyphenation is tolerable; I was simply thinking of it being a mouthful for a young child," Severus replied, amidst the laughter in the room. "How did you decide on her names?"

"Well," she replied, "Eloise means intelligent, which I am sure she will be, given the two of us, and while Eileen is beautiful and means 'light', I also know it is your Mother's name, and-"

"Thank you, Hermione, thank you," he interrupted, gently patting her hands. "It's a beautiful name."

By unspoken mutual agreement, there was a long moment of silent respect for the newly named child, and then, as discreetly as a Gryffindor can, Seamus brought up his question again. "Do I have any parenting rights to the children that Professor Snape had while in my body? Or, at least, the child that seems to resemble me?" Although the children that Severus birthed while in Seamus' body strongly resembled Harry and Ron, the red-haired infant was starting to show a few darker features. It was unclear, however, if they were signs of Severus or Seamus.

"Do you think that any of Seamus' genetics are in the child, Poppy," asked Minerva.

"This is completely new situation, Minerva, so of that I am unsure. I think it would be best for Severus to brew a paternity potion before any judgment is made. I respect Seamus' willingness to take part in the care of the child, especially since I know it was a bit of a nasty shock when he found out, but I would also not advocate that he take part in the exhausting care of raising a child that simply isn't his."

Severus nodded. "I'll start brewing it this evening, Mr. Finnegan. I'll be making enough for several doses. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnegan and myself will all use the potion and see what the results are."

"Use?" questioned Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. This is not a potion one imbibes; you will be adding a drop of blood to the potion, which, when properly brewed is deep red in colour. If it reacts positively to you, the potion will turn white."

"That's quite clever," said Harry. "Loads better than the DNA testing Muggles have to do for genetics testing, don't you think, Hermione?"

"Oh, yes, most certainly Harry. Despite all my reading, I was completely unaware such a potion even existed."

"It's not typically on the student curriculum, Miss Granger. I do feel, however, that given our collective experiences this year, Albus simply must included a Wizarding culture class for our students."

"I concur whole-heartedly, Severus," stated Poppy. "And Albus must make it part of the core curriculum; there's so many things that Muggleborn students simply are not aware of that we take for granted."

The potion actually took longer than planned, because one of the children burst into tears and in surprise, the rarely startled Potions Master dropped too little of an ingredient into the brew; it was time-sensitive so he couldn't just add more and achieve the same result . . . and had to begin again. This time, Hermione helped him prepare the ingredients to speed up the process as much as possible. After a measure of time, Severus began to decant the potion which was blue.

"I thought you said it would be red, Professor," questioned Harry.

"It will be, Mr. Potter, but this is the base potion. To brew it completely, I must add the essence of each child into the potion as a starting point. Poppy will be taking blood from each of them in a special manner for infants and children who are not aware or unable to understand what is going on. When the vial turns red, I will split it into four smaller containers. You will put a drop of blood into one, as will Seamus, as will Ron, and as will I. If yours turns white and mine turns white, than we are the parents. Also, despite that the children each strongly resemble one of you two, all of us will test for paternity for each child to be on the safe side. Do you all understand?"

The three nodded, and Severus turned back to complete his task.

Finally it was finished and eight vials, holding a deep ruby red potion, carefully labelled in Hermione's tidy script, sat ready for testing. The men realized they were a bit nervous.

Slowly, deliberately, Snape held up a perfectly sharp and perfectly sterile needle and pointed it at Harry. "Your turn, Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed, and held out his hand. 'Plink! . . . Plink!' A drop of blood fell into the first and then the second vial. The first turned white; the second stayed red. Severus looked at the labels. "The child that looks like you, Mr. Potter, is indeed your child; you have no paternity claims for the red-headed child."

Harry nodded and stepped back to Hermione's station for her to spell the small wound closed. Severus was not the father of either child in question; much to his relief. The thought of being a father to a Potter or Weasley was just, well, revolting, and he had had quite enough of revolting with his late evenings with the Deputy Headmistress to last him a lifetime!

Seamus was the second father to Harry's child, and also the father to the baby that resembled Ron. There seemed no reason to test Ron at this point, but the Potions Master insisted.

It was a bloody good thing that he did too; the baby simply wasn't Ron's.

After quite a bit of shouting, Severus, with Hermione's help – as she was used to taming her two friends – the room was back under control.

Mostly.

"How could it not be mine?" exclaimed Ron. "This baby looks just like me! Look at his hair!"

"Me Mum had red hair, Ron," Seamus announced, "it could be from her."

"Well who's the other bloke then, if it wasn't one of us?"

"Aye... That may take a bit of thinking, that one might," Seamus said, his Irish brogue slipping out a bit heavier under strained nerves. "It could have been Draco, or Colin, or Fred or George that time they visited, or Goyle or -"

"EURGH! You shagged _Goyle!_" Despite the revulsion in the tone of the words, Hermione could not help but laugh; the exclamation had come not only from Ron, but Harry and Severus as well.

Seamus blushed. "He's quite a bit 'otter than when we was firsties!"

Hermione laughed harder and shook her head.

Amidst the giggles, Seamus whistled then leered at Ron, "Hey, remember that fabulous shag in Filch's broom closet?"

Ron quirked a brow. "Seamus, are you taking the piss?" I never shagged – or was shagged – with or by you in a broom closet. Especially not Filch's!"

There was a long pause.

"That wasn't you, mate?"

Ron just shook his head.

"Oh," gulped Seamus. "Wonder who ..." and then he blushed. "You think we could get another vial of that potion together, Professor?"

"And who exactly will be contributing to this one, Mr. Finnegan?"

"Neville."

Severus looked at Hermione. "Please let me be retired before _that _child ever needs to learn Potions!"

An hour later, Seamus had brought Neville down to join the rest of the group. The boy had never gotten over his upset from the beginning of the year, and was very nervous when he saw a vial full of red potion that had his name on it.

The feared Potions professor thrusting a needle at him and instructing him to donate a drop of blood to the potion did nothing at all to calm his nerves. Not wanting to irritate Snape, however, he gingerly did as he was told, and watched as the potion, whatever it was, turned white.

"Well, that settles it," announced Snape. "Have a delightful time in fatherhood," he said, a bit mockingly, to Neville.

"Fa-fatherhood?"

"Did Mr. Finnegan not explain what you were being brought down here for?"

Neville shook his head.

Severus sighed, "I'm surrounded by dunderheads.

"Hey!" exclaimed Hermione.

"I didn't mean you, dear,"

"Hey!" exclaimed McGonagall, who had surreptitiously followed Neville in her animagus form. The others had been so tuned in to discover if Neville was the 'missing' father, not even Hermione had noticed the little cat curled up next to the door.

"And I thought _my_ life was complicated," muttered Harry. "What _are_ you going to do about all this, 'Mione?"

"Miss Granger!" the Deputy Headmistress cried in embarrassment.

"Sorry, but it was a little hard to keep it from them after they realized the truth about Professor Snape's predicament. Besides, thanks to the Headmaster, apparently the entire school will know in a few days, so Harry's right. It really _is_ in our best interest to figure this out sooner than later."

"Maybe we could all move away," muttered Seamus.

"I hate to ask, but what precisely are you all talking about," asked Neville, confusion evident on his face.

"It's a long, long story," Hermione said wearily, "but basically, after the Potions accident at the start of the year, until recently, I've been in Professor Snape's body and he was in mine – and then he was in Seamus's and well. . . you know how he and Ron and Harry are . . . and then there were pregnancies . .It's a bit complicated."

Neville was aghast at the trouble he had inadvertently caused, but came to a helpful, he thought, at least for himself, conclusion. "Hermione! That means that time you turned me down so, well, rudely, it wasn't you at all, was it? It was Professor Snape!"

"Since I don't know what you're talking about, I'll assume that is the case. What did I turn your down for, exactly?"

"I – I asked you to be my girlfriend, Hermione, and you said that not only did you not like me that way, but that you didn't like me _at all_! But I know that was just the Professor being ... the Professor, so ...?"

"Neville, what about your time with Seamus? You're a father to his child now."

"I uhm... I like birds and blokes, Hermione, but I don't know if I'm ready for a full-out relationship with a bloke; Gran would kill me!"

"Well, you are right in that it was Severus just being himself; I do like you, Neville, you're a good friend, but I really don't like you 'that way'. I had a partner before all of this mess began-"

"An _evil_,_sadistic_ partner," Severus interjected.

Hermione just glared at him. "And to complicate things further, I now have a child with Severus, and I like him quite a bit too. Life really got messy this year. Oh, and I've been to a Dark revel, to top it all off. I think I know how you can beat Voldemort, Harry."

"Really? How?"

"Challenge him to an Irish dancing competition."

"'Mione! I thought you were going to give me serious advice!"

"She is, Mr. Potter; but you better learn from the best on the side of the Light, because from what Hermione's shared with me in a pensieve, the Dark Lord has got one hell of a sense of rhythm."

The expression on Harry's face was priceless as he muttered, "But I'm total pants at dancing! Can't I just duel him?"

"I do believe this entire thing has gone completely pear shaped," Minerva sighed. "However, I can try once again to teach you to dance, Mr. Potter. I also know a few people who should be able to give Vo- Voldemort a run for his money. We'll probably want to view the memory that Severus is referring to as well, so we know what we're up against."

"Severus, do you think Harry could get away with being the only dancer? From my experience, it probably wouldn't hurt to have several people primed and ready to go dance with the Inner Circle as well," interjected Hermione.

Severus nodded. "I think that would be wise. Minerva and I are both skilled in the various dances that the Dark Lord would know, despite his half-blood status, and can train you and your friends in proper dancing etiquette."

"I could probably use a brush-up myself," mused Ron. "I was never very interested when Mum tried to teach the lot of us."

"Me too," murmured Neville. "Gran said I didn't have enough coordination to learn. But if it will help Harry taken that monster down, I want to be at his side!"

"Guess we've officially got ourselves a Dancing Association, huh, Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione laughed.

_To be concluded in chapter twenty-one. Please, please, please, please review, we beg of you. We really want to know how you like what we're doing!_


	21. All's Well That Ends Mostly Good

**Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!**

**By MysticSlave**

_Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JKR's. Much to our disappointment._

**Chapter Twenty-One: All's Well That Ends . . . Mostly Good**

"For the last time, Albus, I beseech you to cease your foolishness and not tell the student body about the children. You know it will immediately leak to the papers and to the Dark Lord. Have you no care for my sanity or safety? If you are not concerned for me, then, the safety of those also involved?"

"My dear boy," and with those words, Severus knew there was no talking the old coot out of his plans, "it is time we force the issue with Voldemort. I believe that by releasing this information, he will be forced to show his hand. I understand that you have created a sure-fire way for Harry to destroy him?"

"I don't know about 'sure-fire', Albus, but we do at least have hope that it will be the . . . least painful for those involved."

"Good, good! Screaming Orgasm?"

"I –_Excuse me?_"

"It's this lovely Muggle drink I've discovered. It's got quite a bite to it, but it's very tasty."

"Albus, I hardly feel that this is an appropriate time for _your Muggle idiocy_ When do you propose to tell the students of matters they have no business knowing?"

"On Friday morning. I'll inform the other Heads to instruct their students that breakfast that morning shall be mandatory."

"I see." Severus was highly displeased, but knew there was no way around the issue this time. Albus could not be moved from his 'brilliant' plan. They were stuck. Without another word, Severus stood and swept from the Headmaster's office; no sign of the despair he felt evident on his face.

Hermione was sitting on the small sofa in Minerva's office, gently running her fingers through the older woman's soft hair. Minerva was curled up, much as her animagus form would, head in Hermione's lap. "What are we to do, Hermione? I cannot bear losing you."

"Nor I you, Min. Nevertheless, I cannot in good conscience abandon my daughter and expect Severus to care for her on his own. I have also come to care for Severus; perhaps not as deeply or intensely as I care for you, and I do not know if the intimacy we shared can possibly be the same now that we have our own selves back, but my thoughts stray there."

Minerva sighed. "Severus has sometimes felt like a son to me. I don't know if I could handle being in a polygamous relationship with the two of you, Hermione."

"Are you asking me to choose?"

Minerva shook her head, tears in her eyes. "No, never my love, but I am distraught and I don't rightly know what to do."

At this juncture came a knock at the door. Minerva wandlessly waved it open to reveal the man in question. "Severus," Minerva said, her voice a little cooler than usual. His keen talent as a spy caught the tears in her eyes and he surmised the reason for them and for her slightly frosty tone.

"I came to tell you when Albus was releasing the . . . news," he said tiredly, as he closed the door behind him. Noticing the bassinette in the corner, he checked in on his daughter. She was sleeping and he ran a light finger down her cheek. 'His daughter' – how utterly peculiar the concept still was, so foreign to him.

"Albus is informing all the Heads that their students are required to attend Friday's breakfast for an important announcement. If we want to move out of the country, now would be a good time to do it. I hear Mr. Weasley's brothers have concocted some long-lasting concealment potions. I imagine we could purchase a number of them."

Minerva sighed. "How long do you think Albus would search for us?"

"Min! You can't be serious about running way?"

"Do you want the entire student body to know what went on this year? Do you want them to speculate that your grades were the result of our relationship?"

"I earned my grades fair and square and we didn't start anything until I was of age and no longer taking transfigu-"

"She's baiting you, Hermione," offered Severus, and amused smirk playing across his lips. "We know the truth – but how easy do you think it will be to convince the student body of that? You know how quickly rumours run amuck here."

'_Amuck, amuck, amuck!'_ popped into Hermione's brain, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the goofy image of Sarah Jessica Parker in the film 'Hocus Pocus'. "I see," she finally ground out. "You have a point, I suppose. But think of who else is involved, Severus. How far do you think we'll get from Britain if run away with the 'Boy Who Lived'?"

Severus slumped his shoulders in defeat; an uncharacteristic position for the proud man, but Hermione and Minerva completely understood how he felt.

"Dobby!" Minerva called.

"Yes, Deputy Headmistress, you is calling for Dobby?"

"Yes, Dobby. I need you to fetch Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnegan, - and fetch Poppy Pomfrey too. She should probably be aware of what is going on."

"Dobby is fetching the Great Mr. Potter and everyone else you is asking for!" He blinked out of site after this statement. Severus seated himself in one of Minerva's armchairs while they waited on the rest of their unfortunate entourage.

When everyone had gathered, Hermione broke the news that Albus would be sharing their private lives to the entire student body and staff of Hogwarts that Friday morning during breakfast.

Utter silence was the reaction, save a quiet, "Bloody hell!" from Ron.

After a few moments, Severus surprised everyone with his own announcement. "As my quarters are the most heavily warded, if the lot of you would like to spend Friday morning there, as long as nothing is broken, you are welcome. I will have breakfast delivered from the kitchens."

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. "That's very kind of you, Severus. I think we should all take you up on that offer, but," she continued, looking squarely at the rest of the crew, "do not alert _anyone_ to where you will be Friday morning."

"If you will leave your children in my care," followed Poppy, "I will see to it that they are well protected from noise and insanity that is sure to follow our _esteemed_ Headmaster's announcement. I know everyone will be clamouring to meet the infants and think it best if they are safely hidden for the time."

There was a general round of consensus to both announcements, another pause, and then Harry ventured, "Why exactly does the Headmaster think it wise to tell everyone what happened? What about the children of Death Eaters who are in line to be Death Eaters?"

"He wants to force the Dark Lord's hand, Potter. He believes we have a sure-fire way to vanquish him and feels that once the Dark Lord hears what has happened, which I assure you, he will hear, than we shall see him march forth on the grounds of Hogwarts to commence what Albus hopes will be the Final Battle."

Harry looked dumbly at Snape. "Has he lost his mind? Did you _tell_ him what the plan consists of?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"_And_," Severus ground out, his face tinged with anger or embarrassment, "he offered me a _screaming orgasm_; claimed it was some bloody Muggle concoction for _drinking_!"

The purebloods of the room looked dumbfounded.

Hermione, Seamus, and Harry burst out laughing. "Oh, Severus, I'm sorry," Hermione wheezed, trying to gain her breath. "That really _is_ a Muggle concoction – an alcoholic drink, well, shot, really, consisting of Amaretto, Bailey's Irish Cream, and Vodka. I'm surprised he hasn't discovered the Lemon Drop drinks yet."

"Perhaps you should introduce them to him," Minerva suggested. "We certainly cannot have the Headmaster offering such ill-named drinks out to whoever is in the office at the time."

"And here I would have thought you would enjoy a screaming orgasm, Minerva," offered Snape, rather snidely.

"Oh, hush, you. I can punish you just as aptly now as I have before."

Snape paled and moved back in his chair a bit, legs crossed a bit tighter than before.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Ron interjected after a moment of collective silence. "What we need to do now is get Poppy settled with where the children will be and what their habits are so she'll be ready Friday, although she should have them Thursday evening to be safe," Ron mused, his logical planning side from long hours of tromping Harry at chess showing through. "Then we need to finalize our plans for defeating V-Voldemort."

"For once, Mr. Weasley, I am in complete agreement with you." Ron inclined his head at the Potions Master but voiced no reply.

Despite being quite far away from the Great Hall on Friday morning, the thunderous noise resulting from whatever inane speech The Headmaster had revealed the news with resonated through the dungeon with alarming volume.

"I never want to face them again," moaned Harry.

"You?" sneered Snape, "I just lost my entire reputation this morning!"

"Right. Sorry about that," groused Harry.

Not long after, a hesitant knock sounded on the door. Snape cautiously made his way to it, and on opening, found Draco Malfoy on the other side. The boy looked a bit pale, so Snape shooed him quickly into the room and shut the door again.

Draco looked bleakly at the group before turning to Hermione. "Granger…" he murmured, no hint of his usual distaste. "It was you when I . . . when Filch." He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the memories that lingered. He'd been unable to convince The Headmaster to obliviate him all those months ago. "You helped me. Why?"

"Severus would have done the same for you," Hermione replied cautiously, unsure where the Prince of Slytherin's loyalties lay.

"Yes, because he's my Head of House and my Godfather, and I know you were having to put up a front that you were really him, but you showed me concern and warmth that was unfeigned. Why?"

Harry spoke up at that point. "I don't know what situation you're referring to, Malfoy, but you'll find if you're around Hermione long enough that she's a genuinely nice person and doesn't want anything bad to happen to anyone, no matter who they are."

Draco looked at Harry curiously. "Ah, yes. That explains _spew_." A slight smirk, or perhaps a smile, touched his lips. Hermione rolled her eyes but did not attempt to correct the name of her ill-fated rescue society. "In any case, I came down to thank you for that, and also to see how much truth there is to what The Headmaster says. He can be, well," he looked cautiously at the two professors there, "a bit barmy at times. I can't believe he would announce something so . . . bloody peculiar, knowing that there will be several students who will send word to their parents to alert the Dark Lord."

Severus reached out and grasped Draco's jaw firmly in his hand, tipping his face upwards until they made eye contact. Draco, aware of what his Godfather wanted, relaxed his mental shields and let the older man gently probe his mind, seeking out intentions.

Several minutes later Severus withdrew and guided his godson to a comfortable armchair, before reseating himself. Legilimency, even gently done, always took a great deal of energy. "Draco is to be trusted," he announced. "And he can dance."

Draco looked confused. "Why would . . . we're not having another formal ball, are we Severus?"

The group looked at each other in amusement. Finally Hermione spoke up. "No, but we discovered how to beat the Dark Lord without serious bloodshed, or perhaps none at all, unless Bellatrix decides to implant a thorny rose in her gums again."

Draco's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what Hermione had said. Shrugging his shoulders, he looked at Severus for explanation.

"While Hermione was masquerading in my body, she was called by the Dark Lord for a meeting of the Inner Circle."

Draco's jaw dropped. Rumours of events at these meetings brought terror to many, including the children of Purebloods.

"The rumours are, in fact, just rumours, Draco," Hermione explained, surmising his thoughts. "There was no raping or pillaging. Your Dark Lord is a fan of Riverdance, and it's a bloody good thing Severus' body knows how to dance, and dance well, no matter who's inside of it."

"He's not _my_ Dark Lord," scoffed Draco. A pause. _"Riverdance?_That's rich! So you're planning to what, challenge him to a danc- Bloody hell, you _are!_ But I've seen Potter dance before, you're doomed!"

Harry, surprisingly, burst into laughter. "You would have been right a few weeks ago, Mal—Draco, but I've been coached by the best. Severus, Minerva, and Poppy – they're all splendid dancers and know the traditional Pureblood dances as well as being able to teach me how to move my body so my movements look natural. I even learned some karate movements in the process!"

Hermione cracked a grin. It had been her idea for Harry to watch _The Next Karate Kid_ as a teaching device.

Still sceptical, Draco asked for a demonstration. He may not be on the Dark Lord's side, but if he was going to 'fight' alongside … Potter, he was going to be damn sure the boy could dance.

An hour later, Draco was glued to his seat, eyes on his former nemesis, amazed at what the boy could do. Draco had no idea how the Dark Lord moved – he wasn't privy to the memories Hermione had placed in a Pensieve – but he had a feeling Harry would be hard to beat.

"At least something good came out of that Potions accident, I suppose," murmured Draco.

Neville, who had been sitting quietly, nodded. "Who'd have guessed that my nerves in Potions would lead to the undoing of V-Voldemort?"

Draco just shook his head.

"Where is that blasted woman?"

"I'm sure she had an emergency, Severus; besides the children are fine."

"Hmph. She shouldn't leave them unattended."

"They have charms on the bassinets, Severus. Poppy would be alerted if they needed anything."

As Minerva and Severus continued to argue, Poppy emerged from a private ward in the hospital wing, looking distinctly out of sorts. "Must the two of you snipe at each other? The children were perfectly fine."

"What was so important that you cast charms to alert you and then wandered off?"

"I always cast alerting charms on patients, Severus, no matter their age. If you must know, Rolanda and Pamona recently learned that during their trysts with the Headmaster, he was giving them his own special mixture of Polyjuice potion."

Severus paled. The Headmaster was a devious sort, decent enough at Potions, but to Severus' knowledge lacked the fine innate qualities that allowed a brewer to create their own potions. _'Who am I kidding?_' thought Severus, _'I even view other Masters in that light.'_ "I shudder to ask, but what he was up to?"

"He polyjuiced them to look like Gellert Grindelwald, and a special charm kept them looking like themselves to everyone else; Albus never really got over his first love," Poppy sighed.

Minerva blushed at the revelation from the Mediwitch. It was no surprise that Albus was gay . . . the way he went on, and on about the dark wizard he had been forced to destroy, well, it didn't leave much to the imagination. "How exactly did this come to light, Poppy?"

"Well, they both took up with Filch . . ."

"Filch!" exclaimed Severus in horror.

"I thought you – oh, that's right, Hermione was still in your body when Draco had the misfortune of catching them in the act, as it were," recalled Poppy. "Yes, Filch. He's apparently quite, well, he'd give Hagrid a run for his money, if you catch my drift."

The red blush on Severus' face looked odd against his otherwise pale skin.

"Please get on with the story before Severus' face explodes," whispered Minerva, her hands over her face.

Poppy snickered. "Albus found out about the two hooking up with Filch after Draco asked to have his memory of their interaction obliviated. Albus was furious and, well, did a number of unspeakable things to Rolanda, far worse, I think, than your little bout of transfiguration, Minerva dear. While she was trapped in his private rooms, she happened to look into his Pensieve that had the memories … and of course since they were Albus' memories, she saw herself and Pamona turn into copies of Grindelwald . . . It all unravelled from there, and they've been coming to me for counselling."

Severus and Minerva weren't sure whether they should laugh or cry.

"Is there anyone on the teaching staff that isn't . . ."

"Perverse?" finished Severus.

"Well, up until last weekend I would have suggested Trelawney, but I overheard her talking about someone being 'hung like a centaur,' and frankly I don't know if she meant Filch, Hagrid, or if she really _is_ getting to know the new Divinations professor a little more intimately than Albus had in mind."

Minerva's face was purple and Severus was actually bent over at this point, laughing so hard. As he put a hand on Minerva's back to steady himself, she began giggling and lost her balance, knocking Severus onto the ground.

Which is how Hermione and Harry found them.

"Are they alright, Madam Pomfrey?" asked Harry nervously. And no wonder, _Dancing with the Dark Lord_ was set to premiere (and hopefully end) later that night.

Poppy smiled. "They're fine Harry. Laughter is good for the soul."

"If you say so, Madame," he replied, his brow furrowed nervously.

Hermione turned to Poppy, keeping an eye on her lover . . . lovers . . she hadn't decided yet on that. "We came to retrieve the babies, Poppy. We decided that they'd be safest in Severus' rooms due to the heavy charms and warding. In addition, if there is bloodshed tonight, we didn't want them in the way in the hospital wing."

"No problem, my dear. Let me take the monitoring charms off them so you can pick them up. Do let me know if you need anything. Is anyone going to be staying with them during the . . . dance?"

"Yes, Neville is planning to stay with the children. No matter how much coaching we gave him, he simply has two left feet, and doesn't want to be a risk during the events this evening."

With a few flicks of her wand, the spells were lifted, and Hermione and Harry gathered the children into their arms and headed back to the dungeons.

By this point, Severus and Minerva were laying on the floor, exhausted from laughing so hard, and trying to catch their breath. Poppy offered them each a Pepper-Up potion, and helped them to their feet.

"From what Harry says, it seems it is nearly time, you two. I suggest you get going to do whatever it is you need to do to dance with the enemy."

Severus and Minerva nodded; the tension that had been between them gone after their shared laughing fit. They found the friendship they had for each other was now restored; perhaps things would work out all right in the end. Out of everyone's relationships they had learned about so far, the two of them with Hermione really seemed the most normal.

It was several hours into the dance-off, and Harry was sweating. Not out of nerves, mind you; the Dark Lord only brushed over the more regal, stately dances, before moving into variations of the Scottish Country Dance which required fancy footwork and a great deal of physical fitness. _'Merlin bless Quidditch'_ thought Harry, _'I'd never be able to keep up, otherwise!'_

The dances were progressive; after a repetition of the figure sequence, the paired couples would end up in a different place in the set. This allowed every couple to be the 'top couple,' leading the movements. Bellatrix and Lord Voldemort were perhaps the trickiest pair to follow. He was also glad that Minerva had taught him how to recognize certain types of dances that go through only once such as the _Round Reel of Eight_ and the _Bonnie Anne_.

It was during the _Nighean Donn_ that Harry truly began to shine. The Death Eaters, despite their Lord's coaching, had a difficult time dancing with non Death Eaters. This being a dance that required you to switch partners on every new turn of the dance, and Harry, with the glow of Fatherhood and his regular devil-may-care attitude, performed with ease. It soon became obvious to the Dark Lord that Harry was in fact, going to out dance him and his chums, and in a moment of rare insight, conceded to The Boy Who Danced.

"So, how does it feel to be the Boy Who Out Danced and Defeated the Dark Lord, Potter?"

"Back to Potter, then, are we _Snape_? Given that you've got a child with one of my best friends, I would think we could move beyond that."

"I . . . Fine. Harry. My question still stands."

"It's quite peculiar, really, Severus," Harry mused. "I've been conditioned all my life by that bloody prophecy that one of us had to die for this whole mess to be over. Never in a million years did I imagine Riddle would have a dance-off, and then voluntarily imprison any Death Eater who refused to be redeemed in Wizarding Society."

"I must agree, it is all rather odd. I really cannot imagine what lead to this change of, dare I say, heart, in the Dark Lord." Severus shrugged, carefully repositioning his daughter in his arms. "This year has been full of peculiarities. I must remember to thank Neville one of these days."

Harry cracked a grin. "What did the three of you decide to do?"

Severus paused. "Hermione loves us both. I don't quite understand it; no one ever loved me, and Minerva is so much kinder than I am. Well, except when she gets her knickers in a twist and starts hexing first and asking questions later . . . but Hermione wanted us both, so we came to an amicable agreement." He tickled his daughter, eliciting a sweet babyish giggle. "I am. . . happy, it would seem," a small smile decorated his face for a moment before he pulled his lips into their usual straight line."

Harry nodded, and then ducked, suddenly, as a stream of owls flew into the room, garishly wrapped boxes clutched in the talons. The rest of their odd group followed the owls into the room.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"I'm sorry Severus," Hermione said, "they showed up in the Great Hall during breakfast and refused to release their packages. We followed them down here."

With the door now firmly shut, the magnificent owls set their packages down and took off again, obviously not in need of a response.

Cautiously, Ron approached the packages, and with recently found confidence, checked the packages quite thoroughly for Dark magic.

"They seem to be safe," he murmured as he checked the last one. "Let's see what's inside."

There was a package for each new child, and the respective parents gingerly opened the gifts, still worried that something less than enchanting would be inside.

They looked in the boxes and each other in amusement. It was Harry, of course, from his frightening experience in second year, whom identified the material the tiny shoes were created from – "They're Basilisk skin dancing shoes," he giggled, his grin growing wider yet as he plucked a silver and green baby rattle from beneath the shoes.

He gave it a shake. There was no doubt about it. Lord Voldemort was the culprit, for the rattle shook merrily to the strains of _Riverdance_.

Finis

**Author's Note 1:** Yes, it's really, truly the end. We hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as we've enjoyed writing it. MysticSong has received a LOT of alerts for people who have added this story to their favourites, so we really hope to see a lot of reviews for this chapter. It would really make our day.

**Author's Note 2: **For all our faithful followers who are of-age, you can find the non-cut version on our website's fan fiction archives. Check out the homepage link in Mystic's profile and head into the archives from there.

**Author's Note 3 (Dec 16, 2007):** After this chapter was posted, several folks on various sites the story is on asked, "But what happened to Voldie?" Some people offered suggestions of what happened to him. So of course, I created artwork.

**Author's Note 4 (July 24, 2011):** I just realized that the artwork links for this story are no longer valid. No one ever mentioned it in reviews, so oops! Someone pointed out an important typo in chapter 20, and when I went to fix it, noticed the artwork link was to a dead site. You can view all 3 pieces of artwork for this story at this site (be sure to take all the spaces out, or the URL won't work!):

http: / s291 . photobucket . com / albums / ll307 / mystic-song /FanFictionArt / Mine /

Also, we've had several reviewers here and on other sites we've posted _Duck Duck Goose_ ask if we'd ever consider writing a sequel. I tossed the idea out to Slave4Severus and we've taken it under consideration. We're not making any promises. We don't live in the same town any more, so getting together is far difficult; our work schedules even make on-line communication times hard to manage. But we are thinking about it. And if nothing else, perhaps I will eventually convince her to finish her one Severus/OC story that so many of you also loved.

_Cheers!_


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